


A Chance Meeting on Deep Space Four

by RemusJ



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 06:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 84,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemusJ/pseuds/RemusJ
Summary: Interplanetary politics means that Sarek may be the only person who can help a mysterious starship crewman he and Amanda encounter on Deep Space Four. The crewman claims to be Vulcan but after Sarek discovers he has been lying about his past, will Amanda’s suspicions that he is actually Romulan prove true?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters are short but there will be lots them. Though this is a WIP, it is already 2/3 completed so no worries about it not getting finished. Many thanks to my beta reader, TomFooleryPrime. Check out their works too.

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.244

Deep Space Four was located in a part of the Beta Quadrant that was not unlike the Wild West of old Earth. Situated between the Typhon Expanse, an as yet unexplored region of the galaxy, and the Romulan Neutral Zone, there were were few reasons for anyone to venture there. Aside from the Norkan and Tarod solar systems, there was little else there on the Federation side but empty space. It was relatively close to the Nimbus and Devolin systems but as those were inside the Neutral Zone, Federation ships were prohibited. The exception was the planet Nimbus III, the so-called Planet of Galactic Peace, which was home to citizens of the Federation, the Romulan Star Empire, and the Klingon Empire.

The most frequent visitors to Deep Space Four were the Seenans, who inhabited the planet Senes in the Norkan system. Though not Federation members, the Seenans did a great deal of trade with the Federation and it was trade negotiations that brought Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan to Deep Space Four for the first time. He brought with him his human wife, Amanda, aide Selar, and Dvir, a Vulcan healer. As Starfleet medical personnel on Deep Space Four consisted only of one Chief Medical Officer, one nurse practitioner, and one medic, none of whom were accustomed to treating Vulcans, it had been advisable that Sarek bring his own healer as a precautionary measure. They were close to the Neutral Zone, after all. 

In preparation for their arrival, Amanda had read as much as possible about Senes. She, of course, wouldn’t be involved in the negotiations but she wanted to understand the situation her husband was dealing with. One reason that Senes was not a Federation member was that it was not a unified planet. It was divided into twenty-seven different states, ranging in size from quite large to quite tiny. Planet-wide peace was something that had yet to be achieved. Though there were no major wars taking place at the moment, there were constant uprisings, incursions, terror attacks, and general hostilities even in the areas considered relatively safe. For this reason Starfleet had chosen to have the talks on Deep Space Four, rather than on Senes itself. 

The ambassador representing Senes in these talks, Tala, was from Hakar, the largest and most powerful state on the planet. Following eleven years of civil war, Hakar was now in its eleventh year peace. Hakar was rich in natural resources, including many plants valued throughout the galaxy for their medicinal properties. Though sixty-three different languages were spoken on Senes, Haka, the language of the Hakarans, was considered the lingua franca as it had the most native speakers. Federation Standard was unknown to most of the planet’s inhabitants, the exception being those who lived in and around Hakar’s capital city of Undaa, who had frequent contact with the aliens who came to there for trading purposes. Undaa had been built upon an ancient river that led to the inland saltwater Sea of Lataan. The river had long ago dried up, leaving Undaa about 50 kilometers from the Lataan, the nearest body of water. The climate in Undaa was considered mild and “Mediterranean” by Earth standards. 

The Seenans were humanoids whose skin tones ranged from what on Earth would be called “olive” to much darker tones. With rare exceptions, their hair was copper colored and, most strikingly, all had amber eyes. Though she had seen pictures, Amanda could not help but be struck by the intensity those eyes seemed to reveal the first time she saw them in person. She and Sarek had just arrived at Deep Space Four and were being shown to their quarters when she passed some Seenans, crew members of a ship docked there, in the corridor. They wore gray uniforms with red stripes around the legs just below their knees and around the arms just above their elbows. The drab gray color of the uniforms seemed to accentuate their eye color. They nodded to her and smiled as they passed.

After settling into their quarters, Amanda left to take a walk around the station while Sarek prepared for the negotiations. There was an observation area that faced the Typhon Expanse that she was keen to see. Upon entering reaching the area, she had her second encounter with a Seenan. A Seenan boy, perhaps fourteen years old, stood motionless against the glass, staring out into the expanse. He was so enthralled that he didn’t hear Amanda approaching. Not wanting to disturb him, she remained a few paces back. Minutes passed and the boy did not move. Though she was unsure whether the boy spoke Standard, she decided to take her chances and approach him.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The boy jumped back, startled, but then laughed at his reaction.

“I didn’t hear you,” he replied in Standard that was accented but nonetheless intelligible.

“I’m sorry I startled you.”

“Do you work on the station?” He asked her.

“No, I’m just visiting. What about you?” She smiled.

“I’m here with my uncle. His company has transported Ambassador Tala here to conduct trade negotiations with the Federation.”

“Ah, I see. Well, my husband is the Federation ambassador who will be conducting the negotiations with Ambassador Tala. His name is Sarek and I’m Amanda.”

“Nice to meet you Amanda,” he said, nodding his head. Amanda realized this must be the standard Seenan method of greeting. She was about to nod her head in return when the boy looked as if he had just remembered something and held out his hand to her.

“I’m Naalem.” 

“Nice to meet you, Naalem.”

“Are you from Earth?”

“Yes, though I’ve lived on Vulcan for many years now. What region of Senes are you from?”

“From Undaa. I’ve met Earth people there before. There are a lot of aliens there. Have you ever been?”

“No, I haven’t but I’ve read that it’s a very beautiful, ancient city.”

“Yes, there are a lots of old building though a lot of them are falling apart now. They got damaged in the war.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yes, I was born during the war so I never got to see what the looked like before. Only the pictures.”

“Perhaps one day they will be rebuilt and they’ll look like the pictures again.”

“I don’t know. It takes a long time for anything to get done in Hakar.”

“Hmmm, well, have you been to Deep Space Four before with your uncle?”

“No, this is the first time I’ve been in space. I wasn’t old enough until now. But now that I’m old enough---”

“Naalem!” Naalem turned around upon hearing his name.

Amanda was taken aback when she saw the man who had just entered the observation area. From his gray uniform with red stripes she recognized him as member of the same Seenan starship crew they had passed in corridor but he had not been among that group. He was not, in fact, a Seenan at all, but a Vulcan.


	2. Chapter 2

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.244

The Vulcan in the Seenan uniform was tall, though not significantly taller than than any of the adult Seenans she’d encountered, with light brown hair and eyes that seemed to be as gray as his uniform. His hair was cut in the same style she’d seen on a some of the Seenan crew members - long on top and short in the back. It was long enough on top that it might have covered his ears except for that fact that it was somewhat curly. How strange to see a Vulcan with a thick mop of hair on his head.

“It is time for dinner, Naalem,” he said as he approached them. “I’m sorry if he’s disturbed you, ma’am.” He nodded to Amanda.

“Oh, no, we’ve been having a nice chat,” she said, smiling

“He does like to chat,” the Vulcan replied and a knowing smile spread across his face. A smile. Amanda was in such shock that she couldn’t speak.

“Let’s go, Naalem,” he said turning toward the corridor. “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Nice to meet you.” Naalem smiled as he turned to go. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

As Amanda headed back to her quarters a few minutes later, there were two more things about this Vulcan that struck her. She needed to speak to Sarek about him.

She found Sarek still at his computer terminal.

“Did you find the observation area to your liking?” he asked without looking up.

“Yes. It’s got a really lovely view of the Typhon Expanse.”

“Perhaps we can go observe it together after end meal.”

“Yes. Sarek, you remember the Seenan starship crew we passed in the hall earlier?”

“Yes.”

“They have a Vulcan working for them. I saw him in the observation area.”

“Interesting.” Sarek’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, indicating to Amanda that he didn’t find it interesting at all.

“His hair was cut in the Seenan style. And this is the strangest thing - he smiled at me. A big smile.” 

“That is most unusual.” 

“I didn’t imagine it, Sarek. I’m telling you that a Vulcan smiled at me.”

“As I said, that is most unusual.”

“Most unusual? Don’t you think there’s something suspicious about that?” She asked, approaching him.

“Not particularly. Perhaps as a result of working and living among the Seenans he is no longer in complete mastery of his emotions.” He finally turned to look at her.

“There are Vulcans in Starfleet living among a lot of humans and all kinds of other aliens and I’ve never seen any of them smile.”

“As I do not know the man, I can only offer speculation. A stranger’s behavior is not my concern.”

“Isn’t it odd for a Vulcan to be working out here for a non-Federation people?”

“Uncommon, perhaps, though not unheard of. I am aware of several Vulcan scientists doing research on non-Federation planets.”

“But he’s not a scientist. He’s a member of the crew. Why would a Vulcan be working on a non-Federation ship?”

“As I said, a stranger’s behavior is not my concern. If you encounter him again, perhaps you should ask him. Though he may find the question intrusive.”

“Do you think he could be a Romulan?”

“No,” he said rising from his chair.

“Why not? We’re very close to the Romulan Neutral Zone.”

“All crew members and visitors must be pre-screened before they are permitted entry to a Federation starbase. Obviously, a Romulan would not be permitted entry. There would be no point in even submitting his data to the starbase’s security team - he would never be permitted to disembark from the ship.”

“What if they didn’t inform security that he was onboard?”

“Security would certainly have noticed an extra crew member when they arrived and the ship would have been refused port.”

“They could have said he was a Vulcan.” Amanda was becoming convinced that the man she had seen in the observation area could not possibly be a Vulcan.

“He would need to have documents proving his identity, which would have been verified prior to his arrival.”

“They could be forged.”

“It would be most unlikely that the security team would not be able to detect forged documents.”

“You are so confident in Starfleet’s abilities?”

“Amanda,” he said, moving closer to her and holding his fingers out to her in the traditional Vulcan greeting between mates, “you are becoming agitated for no logical reason. Do you really believe this man intends harm?”

She reached her fingers out to him in return. “I suppose not. He seemed friendly enough. He was with a Seenan child, the nephew of one of the crew members. The boy was nice and he seemed comfortable around him.” 

“Let us have end meal then.”

There was something else about this Vulcan (Romulan?) man that had struck Amanda but she decided it was best to keep it to herself. Sarek already thought she was overreacting and he’d only think she was being a completely illogical human should she bring it up. She resolved she would do some investigating on her own. Perhaps Naalem could provide her with information. 

After breakfast the following morning, Amanda found herself in the observation area once again, hoping she’d run into Naalem. The boy wasn’t there so she decided to go for a walk around the station. Perhaps she’d run into him somewhere else. If she didn’t, she’d at least have the opportunity to tour the rest of the station and get some exercise. Even on the high speed Lancer it had taken two days to get here from Vulcan because they had had to go around the Romulan Neutral Zone. As the Lancer had been designed for speed, not comfort, it had been very cramped. Amanda was glad to get a chance to stretch her legs.

When she had been walking about forty-five minutes, she heard a commotion behind her. She had passed the cafeteria, a recreation room, numerous offices, and was heading in the direction of station sick bay. She turned to find Sarek and Dvir, the healer that had come with them from Vulcan, running towards her. Something was wrong.

“Amanda!” He said breathlessly as he approached her. “There has been an explosion on Ambassador Tala’s ship. Return to our quarters immediately. I will contact shortly but I must get to sick bay first.”


	3. Chapter 3

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.245

Dr. Rani Naik had been Chief Medical Officer on Deep Space Four for just over three years. She had always known she wanted to be a Starfleet doctor. The idea of visiting new worlds and meeting new people was one she dreamed of from an early age in the suburban Atlanta town she’d grown up in. Atlanta was a pretty diverse place as far as the variety of humans, but not many aliens resided there so she’d left immediately following high school to pursue her dream. She’d had the opportunity to travel to many places on Earth during her years in pre-med and medical school and had done her residency at Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco, where she specialized in xenobiology. 

Her first assignment had been the U.S.S. Republic. That had been over eighteen years ago. From the Republic she’d gone on to the Bonaventure and then to the Haven, followed by the Charon, Niagra, and Horizon. Such was the life of a junior medical officer in Starfleet. She’d once thought she’d never grow weary of traveling from planet to planet and perhaps she wouldn’t have if she’d been able to stay on one ship but constantly changing assignments had grown tiresome. As she’d approached her fortieth birthday, she’d found herself longing more and more for some stability. So when the opportunity arose for her to take over as Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Four, she took it despite the fact that she had never envisioned herself working on a space station, particularly one so remote.

On the Horizon she’d been one of three doctors but on Deep Space Four the entire medical staff was comprised of only three people - herself, Ensign Santos, a nurse, and Crewman Janda, a medic. This had taken some getting used to but despite the small staff complement on the station, it wasn’t the quiet and boring place she’d envisioned. Cargo ships with their crews were constantly coming and going. It wasn’t all that different from being on a smaller starship except that she was the one staying in one place. At times she did feel a bit claustrophobic on the the station, though, so she spent her vacation time on the nearby planet of Senes. Senenan cargo ships frequently stopped at the station and the interactions she’d had with their crewmembers revealed them to be a warm and hospitable people. The Sea of Lataan in Hakar had become a favorite vacation spot for her.

At the moment Dr. Naik found herself in her office, just off the main sickbay room, doing administrative work, which, along with research, is what occupied most of her time these days. Though the station itself was often bustling with visitors, sickbay did tend to be relatively quiet. She had few patients and those she did have usually came in for minor illnesses. The most serious situation she’d ever treated in her three years here had been outbreak of a virus that originated in the Tarod system. Presumably it had been brought onto the station by a crewmember on one of the visiting cargo ships. It had spread quickly and soon most of the Starfleet personnel on the station had come down with it. It had been a minor emergency since most of the staff had been unable to perform their duties for several days. However, the virus had not been life threatening and soon things returned to normal. 

Dr. Naik was beginning to think that normal was a little too boring and that she was losing some of the skills she’d picked up during her xenobiology residency. She’d become very close to the other personnel on Deep Space Four and she wasn’t ready to move on yet, but she’d had to admit she’d been a little miffed when she’d learned that Starfleet had recommended the visiting Vulcan ambassador bring his own doctor with him. However, she then had to remind herself that although she had treated some Vulcans during her various ship assignments, it hadn’t been that many and she had yet to treat one since being assigned to Deep Space Four. She should be grateful for assistance should she need it, she told herself. Not that she expected the ambassador or his aide to need any medical care during their stay. The ambassador was 127, which for a Vulcan was comparable to a human in their early 60s. More likely to become ill was his human wife, aged 84, though records indicated she was in excellent health.

Naik continued on with her “paperwork.” Though paper documents had been discontinued centuries ago, the term had stuck. Suddenly, her door swung open and she turned in surprise to Crewman Janda.

“Dr. Naik! There’s been an explosion on the Seenan ship! They’re transporting an injured crewmember here now!” He turned and sprinted out the door before she could reply.

She ran after him into the main sickbay room, which consisted of six biobeds that usually remained unoccupied, giving the bay an empty and open feel. She was in time to see three people materializing onto the floor near one of the beds. Ensign Santos was already standing by ready to assist. When the Seenans materialized, she saw that two of them were kneeling over a third. One held a bandage over the injured man’s head and the other over his upper left arm. The bandages were soaked green. Seenans, like humans, had iron based blood so she knew this must be the Vulcan crewmember she’d seen on the station. He’d been on Deep Space Four several times but she’d never actually met him, only passed him in the corridors. He’d always nod his head at her as was Seenan custom and occasionally he’d even smile. She’d found that odd at first but then figured he was only trying to fit in with the Seenans and humans on board the station. Vulcans were a rarity here.

She didn’t have time to think further about who he was - he was injured, so she got straight to work. Santos and Janda lifted him onto the nearest biobed and she pulled her tricorder out and began to scan him. He had lost a lot of blood due to a severing of the brachial artery on his left arm and through lacerations on his head. 

“Santos, get working on his arm! Janda, help me get these bandages off his head!” Santos began removing the arm bandage while she and Janda carefully pulled the head bandages off. The tricorder revealed significant occipital lobe damage. It appeared that the explosion had caused something to hit him on forehead with such force that his brain had hit the back of his skull, causing severe swelling. That could cause a lot of damage if not quickly reduced but first she had to get the bleeding under control. She and Santos were able to close the wounds relatively quickly but he had lost too much blood. The tricorder indicated his blood type was S- and though they did have a small supply of S-, he would need more. 

“Santos, get out whatever S- blood we’ve got and get him hooked up.” She was about to tell Janda to check the records for the supply of S- at the two nearest starbases, Deep Space Five and Starbase 718, when she remembered that there were three other Vulcans on board. 

“Janda, see if any of those Vulcans on board have S- or T- blood!”

“T-, doctor?”

“Yes, it’s the Vulcan equivalent of O, a universal donor.” Janda should have known this but he was young and inexperienced. Deep Space Four had been his first Starfleet assignment and this had also been his first real emergency situation. He would learn with time.

As Janda contacted the ambassador’s party and Santos got the patient hooked up to the IV, Naik took notice, for the first time, of the two Seenans who had beamed in with the patient. They now stood silently at a distance, having made room for the medical staff to get to work. Both were covered in green blood. One of them she had seen before at the station, a man in his early thirties. The other, she now realized, was a teenage boy. His mouth hung open and his eyes appeared glazed over. 

“Are either of you injured?”

“No, doctor. Losha was the only one injured,” the man said. “Naalem,” he said, looking down at the boy, “was outside the cargo hold when it happened but is uninjured. The explosion appears to have been localized to bin 3. The captain and first officer are investigating the cause now.”

“The patient’s name is Losha?”

“Yes, doctor.”

Losha, she thought, had been the name of the manager of the resort she’d now twice visited on the Sea of Lataan. A Seenan name.


	4. Chapter 4

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.245

“Dr. Naik!” Janda interrupted. “Ambassador Sarek has T- blood. He’s on his way here now! His doctor too!”

Naik was relieved. Even if Deep Space Five and Starbase 718 had enough S- or T- negative blood for the patient, it would take several hours to arrive and that was if there was an available ship. 

“Your friend is in luck,” she said, turning back to the two Seenans. “We don’t have a waiting room here but if you’d like to stay, you can pull some chairs of out of my office.” Naik gestured to her office door

“Do you need to sit, Naalem?” The man asked.

“I’m fine for now,” the boy replied.

“Well, please make use of the chairs if you need them.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Santos, get an IV set up for the ambassador,” she said without turning around.

“I’m already on it, doctor!”

“Now,” she said to the Seenans, “can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“Losha was doing an inventory of the cargo we took on yesterday in preparation for departure. Naalem, tell her what happened.”

“He said there was an unusual sensor reading in bin 3 and he asked me to wait in the cargo bay while he looked it at. A few minutes later there was an explosion. I called Lazor,” the boy said.

“I am a medic,” the man explained. “I found Losha under some debris in the bin. Nothing heavy - Naalem and I were able to remove it fairly easily.”

“Yes, it appears that the force of the explosion is what caused the injury.”

“Is it very bad?” The boy asked, looking at Dr. Naik.

“I don’t know the extent at this time but I will keep you updated.”

“Thank you, doctor,” replied Lazor.

“All stations, yellow alert,” came the calm voice of the computer. “All stations, yellow alert until further notice.” The lights in the room and on the computer panels on the wall flashed briefly. 

“The explosion was contained when you beamed down here?” Naik asked.

“Yes, we sealed off the doors after we brought Losha out as a precaution but it was already out when I got to the bin,” replied Lazor.

“I guess the yellow alert is just a precaution then,” she said. They turned at the approach of hurried footsteps. It was Ambassador Sarek and Doctor Dvir. She had met them briefly yesterday afternoon. As Chief Medical Officer and the third highest ranking officer on the station, she, along with Commander Liu and Lieutenant Commander Bradford, had been in the transporter room to greet the ambassador’s party when the first beamed aboard.

Later in the afternoon, Doctor Dvir had stopped by sickbay to familiarize herself with it and meet rest of the staff. To Doctor Naik, Doctor Dvir was the stereotypical image of a Vulcan, which she found funny because most of the Vulcans she’d met had not fit that image. Dvir was tall, with dark hair and eyes, and very pretty. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, so Naik assumed she was probably closer to seventy. She had a look of arrogance about her but she had been friendly when she visited sickbay yesterday. Friendly for a Vulcan at any rate.

“Ambassador, Doctor Dvir,” Naik said as the approached, “thank you for coming. The patient’s lost a lot of blood. He’s very lucky you happen to be on the station.”

“We are happy to provide any assistance we can,” replied the ambassador.

“Santos has an IV set up for you, ambassador.” Naik gestured to Santos and Sarek went over to him.

“Doctor Dvir, my preliminary scans show a contrecoup injury that has caused bruising and swelling of the occipital lobe. They also indicate exposure to a great deal of oxygen. Would you mind taking a look?”

“Certainly. I come to serve.” Dvir followed Naik over to where the patient lay. She pulled out her own tricorder, which was a Vulcan type Naik was unfamiliar with. Dvir began scanning the area around the patient’s head. Naik noticed a look of what she would describe as puzzlement on Dvir’s face. Dvir put the tricorder down and lightly touched the side of the patient’s head. The look of puzzlement grew stronger.

“In addition to the contrecoup injury and the hyperoxia, there is significant telepathic damage,” she said. “However, it is not recent. I estimate that it occurred at minimum ten standard years ago.”

“Huh,” said Naik. She knew little of Vulcan or other forms of telepathy. She’d worked on telepathic species before but none with telepathic injuries.

“Obviously this telepathic damage is not life threatening as the patient has lived with it for some time but I would like to see his medical records when he is stabilized,” said Dvir.

“Lazor,” Naik called to the Seenan medic, “do you have access to his medical records?”

“Yes, however, there is not much too them. We are not a telepathic species so we would have no way of determining whether someone has suffered telepathic injuries. He didn’t mention anything and was in good health when we left.”

“I see,” said Dvir. “It is only a minor concern now. I will speak to the patient about it when he regains consciousness.”

Amanda had been heading back to her quarters when the yellow alert sounded. Shortly after that, she’d received a call from Selar, informing her that a Vulcan crewman on Ambassador Tala’s ship had been injured in an explosion in the cargo bay and needed a blood transfusion. Neither Selar nor Dvir were a blood type match and though Sarek wasn’t either, his T- blood was a universal donor type. She couldn’t help but think back to the time when a blood transfusion from Spock had saved Sarek’s life. It was fitting that he should now be able to save someone else’s life with his own blood. She was glad Sarek could help but she still couldn’t help feeling suspicious of the injured man.

Twenty minutes after the yellow alert had sounded, Sarek called her to explain the situation. He had known Selar would contact her but knowing his human wife’s anxieties, he also knew that he should contact her himself. He’d told her he would, after all, and she would hold him to that. He assured her he was fine and that once he was recovered, he would return to their quarters.

Twenty minutes after that, the yellow alert was called off and Amanda decided to head down to sickbay. She knew Sarek was fine and that he’d tell her her presence was unnecessary but she didn’t care. She wanted to see him.

When she walked into sickbay, she spotted Sarek sitting on a biobed off to the left, speaking with Dvir. To the right stood Naalem and a Seenan crewmember, covered in green blood. Naalem was staring so intently at Sarek that he didn’t seem to notice her presence. Perhaps he’d never...no, he’d definitely seen a Vulcan before.

“I’m sorry to hear about your friend, Naalem,” she said with a worried look on her face. At the sound of her voice, he turned his attention to her.

“Amanda!” He gave her sad, half-smile. “That is your husband?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“That is my Uncle Losha. Your husband saved his life.”


	5. Chapter 5

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.245

Amanda had many questions but now was not the time to ask them. 

“He was glad to help,” she smiled. “I hope your uncle Losha will be alright.”

“Yes,” was all he could manage with a nod of the head.

“I’m going to speak with my husband now but I will see you later.” She smiled again.

“Yes,” he said again. 

As Amanda turned and went to greet Sarek, Dr. Naik approached the two Seenans.

“He is stable, for now, thanks to Ambassador Sarek. We’ll know more after we complete more scans and review them.”

“Thank you, doctor,” replied Lazor.

“I don’t anticipate any changes in his condition for the time being so maybe you’d like to get cleaned up?”

“I want to be here when he wakes up.” Naalem’s face was blank and Naik recognized that he was still in shock.

“He won’t wake up on his own and it will be at least another day before we wake him up. And if anything changes, I promise to let you know.”

“We don’t want to be in the doctor’s way, Naalem. Let’s go and get changed. You can come back later.”

“You’re not in way but there isn’t anything you can do right now to help him. We’ll take care of him.” She smiled.

“Alright.” Naalem replied. “I need to call someone anyway.” With that, he and Lazor turned to leave.

Two hours later, when Naalem returned in clean clothing, looking slightly less shocked, Naik and Dvir had completed further scanning of the patient’s head and drawn some initial conclusions. Dvir had then left sickbay to check on Sarek. This time Naalem was not accompanied by Lazor, the medic, but by a Seenan captain Naik had seen on the station before. She had never spoken to him but recognized his captain’s uniform - solid gray pants and a white short-sleeved collared shirt with two red stripes around each arm. He was not wearing the high-collared gray jacket. She assumed he must be the captain of the patient’s ship, though she wasn’t certain, given what she had learned about Seenan starship operations during her time on Deep Space Four.

The Seenan system was quite different from Starfleet’s. Ships didn’t have names but instead were assigned numbers. A captain and crew did not belong to any particular ship - they were assigned routes. After returning from a particular route, each crewmember would be assigned to a different route and the new route could be comprised of completely different crewmembers. This could mean that a crewmember boarded a ship having never met or previously worked with his or her fellow crewmembers. So Naik would see a number of the same faces visiting the station but because the ships and crews changed, it wasn’t like getting to know the Starfleet or other ships and crews that frequented Deep Space Four.

She had seen the captain that came in with Naalem several times before. He was short man with a hawk-like face, thick eyebrows, and a large nose. He had a serious expression about him the times she had seen him before, but when he smiled, his whole face lit up. She imagined him to be an intelligent and kind man.

“Hello, doctor,” he said, approaching her and Dvir. “We have seen each other before. I’m Captain Jemel. You have already met, Naalem, my crewman’s nephew.” He extended his hand to her.

“Rani Naik,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it. She hadn’t realized the boy was the patient’s nephew. He must be married to a Seenan woman. That would explain a lot. She didn’t know why she was surprised. She had met a few Vulcan/human couples and probably the most well-known one was aboard the station now. She’d seen Vulcans on Senes as well. It all made sense now.

“Can you tell me about my crewman’s condition?”

“Certainly. He lost a lot of blood from the wound on his left arm but it’s been sealed and between the blood we had on hand and what Ambassador Sarek could provide, that’s no longer an issue. However, he did sustain a serious head injury. We’ve reduced the swelling significantly but not completely. I’m hopeful but we won’t know the full extent of the damage until he regains consciousness. And we’ll have to wait for the swelling to go down further before we can bring him out. Tomorrow at the earliest, though it could be a two to three days.” 

“By damage do you mean there is possibility of brain damage?” 

“That is a possibility, but after reviewing the scans we took, loss of vision is most likely.”

“Loss of vision?”

“Yes, we believe the force of the explosion caused his brain to bang against the back of his skull, bruising the occipital lobe. Damage to the occipital lobe can cause loss of vision. As I said, we won’t know for sure until he regains consciousness.”

“Would this loss of vision be permanent?”

“It is a possibility but I don’t want to speculate. The good news is that if there is any loss of vision, Doctor Dvir believes it could be corrected by surgery on Vulcan.”

“You can’t do surgery here?” Naalem spoke for the first time.

“Surgery might not even be necessary. But, if it is, it would need to be performed by brain surgeons familiar with working on Vulcan brains. Doctor Dvir and I aren’t neurological specialists.”

“Losha can’t go to Vulcan. He’s a stateless person.”

“What Naalem means,” interjected Jemel, “is that Losha is not a Vulcan citizen. He is a stateless person and therefore would need special permission to travel to Vulcan. But I’m sure that could be arranged in this case, Naalem.” He looked at Naalem reassuringly.

“I’m not really familiar with what a stateless person is but I would hope that it could be arranged with Ambassador Sarek’s help. This would certainly be a reason to grant special permission.”

“Losha was born on a planet that does not grant birthright citizenship. His parents were not Vulcan citizens at the time of his birth so he is neither a citizen of Vulcan nor a citizen of his birth planet. He is considered a stateless person. Many planets have restrictions on the admittance of stateless persons. Some will allow them to visit for a period of time, others not at all, and most, like Vulcan, only with special permission. He has served on my crew a number of times in the past several years and it has been a difficulty for him, to say the least.”

“And he’s not a citizen of Senes either?”

“No, Senes does not grant citizenship to non-Seenans. They are free to reside on Senes indefinitely but there is no possibility of citizenship.”

“I had no idea. I’m a doctor after all,” she smiled, “not a expert in interplanetary travel.”

“Well, I’m sure we can work something out if it turns out that surgery is necessary. Captain, can you know what caused the explosion? I assume it’s nothing serious since the yellow alert was cancelled.”

“We haven’t concluded the investigation yet but it appears that some chemical oxygen generators we picked up from a ship that had come in from the Algeron system were stored improperly. Investigations will be conducted on Algeron III, where the cargo was loaded, and on the ship that we received the cargo from. So far it seems to be case of failure to follow safety protocols. Losha was checking the bin where the generators had been transported at the time the explosion occurred.” 

“Wow. Well I’m glad, at least, that it doesn’t appear to be anything intentional.”

“I certainly hope not, doctor.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Doctor Dvir detected some telepathic damage in Losha’s brain. It’s not from today’s injury - she estimated that it occurred at least ten years ago. She believes there is some chance of repairing it but he would need to see a specialist on Vulcan for that as well. Do either of you know anything about that injury?”

Jemel shook his head and looked at Naalem.

“It happened during the war.”

“What caused it?” 

Naalem pursed his lips but remained silent.

“Anything you can tell us could help him.” Naik gave him a reassuring look but Naalem still seemed very apprehensive.

“I can leave, Naalem, if you don’t want me to hear. But I think it’s important that you tell the doctor whatever you know.” Naalem seemed to be deliberating whether he wanted to say anything further.

“It’s settled, then, Naalem. I’m returning to the ship. Please stay and talk to Dr. Naik. I will be back later to check on Losha. And on you too, Naalem.” Jemel left the room.

“What can you tell me, Naalem?”

“I don’t think he wants his telepathic damage repaired. He told me it was a burden to him, to be able to sense so many horrible things during the war.”

“Are you saying he caused the damage himself?”

“No, it wasn’t intentional.”

“It would help me to know if he sustained a brain injury in the past.”

“It’s from sur. Maybe other drugs too. It damaged his memory too. He says he can’t remember things the way he used to. But that was a long time ago. He hasn’t done it in a long time. During the war, people would sniff sur so they wouldn’t feel hungry. And then they got addicted.”

Sur was a drug cultivated from the suraj plant, which grew in Hakar and other states on Senes. During her travels in Hakar, Naik had learned that during the eleven year civil war, when access to food was limited for many people, access to suraj was not. Hakarans would gather the plant, cook it with other substances, and create sur, an appetite suppressant that also gave people a high. Though not as highly addictive as some of the other drugs found on Senes, even short-term use was known to cause lasting memory loss. Naik was not aware that anyone was aware of the effects of sur on Vulcans.

“Thank you for telling me. I won’t tell anyone except Doctor Dvir. And we’ll discuss it with your uncle when he regains consciousness. I will talk with Doctor Dvir to see if there is anything we can do to help with his memory loss.”


	6. Chapter 6

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.246

Amanda was initially surprised to hear that Vulcan man was the boy’s uncle but after speaking with Sarek, came to the same conclusion as Dr. Naik - that Losha must be married to a Seenan woman. She did find it odd that he had a Seenan name though. Sarek’s negotiations with Ambassador Tala resumed the following morning, leaving Amanda once again alone with her curiosity. Sarek had asked Dr. Naik to keep him updated on the patient’s condition but Amanda decided to pay a visit to sickbay herself. She wanted to check on Naalem - she felt sorry for the boy. Before she made it to sickbay, though, she encountered him in the observation area, which was along the way.

“Good morning, Naalem. How are you doing?” She asked, approaching him as he stood with his back to her, looking out at the stars.

“Amanda! I am glad to see you!” He turned and smiled. “I’m fine. And your husband, how is he?”

“He’s just fine. He’s back negotiating with Ambassador Tala.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“How is your uncle doing?”

“The same,” he sighed. “The doctor said he can’t be woken until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“But otherwise he will be o.k.?” Amanda asked.

“I hope so. She said there is a possibility that he could be blind. It’s only a possibility though.”

“Well, I hope that isn’t the case.” She gave him a look of understanding.

“Me too.”

“You have no other family members here with you?”

“No. My uncle is my only family except my aunt Malar but she’s on Risa now. Captain Jemel helped me send a subspace message to her yesterday but he said it will take a few days before she gets it.”

“You have no family back on Senes?”

“No, they all died in the war.” 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Naalem.”

“It’s the same for most people in Hakar. But they all died before I was born or when I was a baby so I don’t remember them. It’s not sad for me - that’s how it’s always been. You can’t miss people you didn’t know.”

“Perhaps.” Amanda wasn’t convinced but she understood that that was probably the point-of-view Naalem had to take in order to accept the situation. “Tell me about your uncle and aunt.”

“Well…they met when they were my age. My father and Malar had been going to this food distribution center in Undaa for a few years. And then one day they met Losha there.”

The boy leaned up against the brick wall of the building, gazing out at the other children playing in the field beyond. The air was filled with their shouts and laughter. This food distribution center was very different from the one he and Kadren had been going to. That one had been close to the center of Undaa, on the ground floor of a former office building. It had been small and one had had to wait in line in the streets outside. There had been no place to eat there and people usually dispersed after picking up their food. 

This center, on the other hand, was a school with a dining area and even this field. It was further from the city center and not as convenient to get to but he had no choice now that the center on Reveyen Street had been destroyed. A new one would likely open to replace it but for now he would have to come here. He had no reason to linger here after picking up the food other than curiosity at being in a new place. There was no need to return to the city center just yet. He had nothing left there anyway.

He was aware that he was being watched but it was a familiar feeling that he had learned to ignore. There had been few Vulcans in Hakar before the war began and since it had started, he hadn’t seen any. They must have all left before the travel embargo had taken effect. Most aliens had, though he had seen a few humans over the past few years. Humans seemed to be everywhere.

Until coming to Senes, he had spent his entire life moving from planet to planet and on almost every planet he had encountered humans. Stateless people such as he and his parents were usually limited to spending 90 standard days in a 180 day period on any given planet. Had he been born on a planet that offered birthright citizenship, such as one of the numerous Federation colonies, things would have been easier for him. As that would not have made things any easier for his parents, there was little use thinking about what might have been. Senes did not have such a policy concerning non-citizens. In order to attract as many traders and business people to the planet as possible, they allowed non-Seenans of any kind to stay on the planet indefinitely. Even if he had wanted to leave Senes, there was no way to now due to the embargo. It was too dangerous for people to travel here.

He continued to feel eyes on him for several minutes. Whoever it was was more curious than the average Seenan. Usually they’d stare for a few seconds and then move along. Perhaps it was best to confront this person. He turned to his right and saw it was two children. They appeared close in age to him - young teenagers. The girl was tall, taller than he was, with hair pulled back behind her head. The boy was shorter, about his height. From the girl he sensed curiosity and suspicion. From the boy, curiosity also but no suspicion. He was surprised that they did not look away when he returned their gaze. People didn’t like to be caught staring.

Slowly, first the boy, and then the girl began to approach him. 

“Hello,” the boy said, nodding his head. “I’m Joa.”

“And I am Malar,” the girl said behind him. He noticed she didn’t nod her head.

“I am Losha,” he said, using the nickname Kadren had given him. These strangers didn’t need to know his real name. And now that Kadren was dead, he felt it was a way to keep his memory alive. 

“You certainly are losha,” the girl said, referring to the fact that it was an archaic Seenan word meaning “handsome.” Now, however, it was only used as a name.

“You are new here,” said Joa.

“Yes.” He sensed a one word answer would not suffice with these two curious Seenans so he continued. “The food distribution center on Reveyen Street was destroyed. So now I have to come here.”

“Yes, many people here today seem to be from Reveyen Street.” Joa said. “You are from Vulcan?”

“Or Romulus?” Malar asked. Although he had sensed suspicion from her initially, he now found that her curiosity outweighed her suspicion. Prior to the establishment of the Romulan Neutral Zone, the Seenans had done quite a bit of trading with the Romulans and they did not view them with the same mistrust as those in the Federation did. However, it had been over a century since the establishment of the Neutral Zone and the end of contact with the Romulans since Senes was in Federation Space. Still, most Seenans were familiar with the Romulans’ history as beneficial trading partners to them.

“I have never been to Vulcan but that is where my family comes from.”

“So you’re from here?” Her surprise was apparent.

“I have been here three years.”

“And where were you before?”

“We traveled to many different planets.”

“So now you’re stuck here because of the war, huh?” Joa asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, welcome to the Kolu School Food Distribution Center!” Joa laughed.

“And they have been friends ever since then,” Naalem finished.


	7. Chapter 7

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.246

“So you call them aunt and uncle because they were your father’s friends?” Amanda asked. Naalem’s story had made her even more curious.

“No, because they are my aunt and uncle.” 

“You mean they married into your family?”

“No, when I was born my father made them my uncle and aunt.”

“Oh, you mean they are your godparents?” Amanda thought she finally understood.

“What’s that?”

“Godparents? Where I come from, on Earth, godparents are friends of a child’s parents who help with his or her religious education. They might care for the child if something happened to the parents but usually they were more like an aunt or uncle.”

“Oh, I see,” Naalem replied, nodding his head. “In Hakar they are called lel and kle. These are the same words we use for uncle and aunt. When a baby is born, the parents choose a lel and kle. They will be the guardians if the parents die… or if they can’t care for the child. It is necessary because we have had many wars and many people have died.”

“Ah, I understand now. I’m sure you’d like to check on your uncle so I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

“I’ve just seen him. I don’t want to sit in there all day. He doesn’t know I’m there.” Naalem sighed.

“Would you like me to stay here with you?”

“You don’t have things to do?”

“Not a thing. My husband will be busy all day with his negotiations.”

Amanda spent most of the rest of the day in Naalem’s company. He was outgoing, curious, and mature, at least mature compared to a human child the same age. It had been a long time since she’d been around children and she found she missed them. She also found that Naalem was very easy to like. They talked about Senes, Earth, Vulcan, and some of the other planets she’d visited. Naalem had heard about many of these places from his uncle and aunt, who was a travel agent. She specialized in romantic vacations (honeymoons and trips for a Hakaran holiday that was similar to Valentine’s Day). She was on Risa at the moment in order to visit a new resort. 

Amanda wanted to know more about Naalem’s uncle but she didn’t want to pry. She learned that he was frequently away working as a cargo load officer on various Seenan starships. Naalem lived at school since neither his aunt nor uncle were home on a regular basis. Losha’s trip to Deep Space Four had coincided with a school break so he had brought Naalem along. It was his first trip to space and he had been very excited until the accident. He asked her many questions about Vulcan; he wanted to know more about the planet that was the home of his uncle’s ancestors. Losha, he told Amanda, was not particularly interested in Vulcan. He had told Naalem that since he would never be able to go there, there was no point in thinking about it.

They spent part of the day in sickbay, where the Seenan captain, first officer, and medic all made visits throughout the day. Naalem had never met any of them prior to boarding the ship on Senes but they were nonetheless concerned for his as well as his uncle’s welfare. 

When she spoke with Sarek that evening after dinner, Amanda learned that he was already aware that Losha may be blind. Dvir had spoken to him about it the previous afternoon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did not see the need to inform you of something that it is not yet determined.”

“That figures.” She sighed. “Naalem also told me that Losha is a stateless person, not a citizen of Vulcan. She said he’s never even been to Vulcan.”

“Yes, Dvir informed me that he is a stateless person and, as such, will need special permission to travel to Vulcan.”

Amanda had thought that stateless people were refugees who couldn’t return to their home planets. Obviously there were no refugees from Vulcan so she could only presume that if Losha’s story were true, he could be descendant of Vulcans who had been exiled from their home planet. During the previous century a number of V’tosh ka’tur, or Vulcans without logic, had left the planet because they did not accept all of the teachings of Surak. Her own stepson, Sybok, had been exiled for the same reason. She wanted to ask Sarek more but she did not want to breach the subject of exile from Vulcan with him. It had been over fifty years since he’d last seen his oldest son and five years since they’d learned of his death, but even now she dared not bring the topic up. There was also the possibility that Losha’s parents were criminals. Perhaps he did not wish to speak to Naalem about Vulcan because he didn’t wish to discuss his parents’ crimes. Or perhaps his parents really were Romulans and everything he had told Naalem and the Seenans was a lie. There was no point in bringing that up with Sarek either because he’d already dismissed the idea two nights ago after she’d encountered Losha in the observation area.

The following morning Dr. Naik was waiting with Dr. Dvir when Naalem arrived per her request. She wanted him to be present when Losha regained consciousness. 

“He may not remember what happened just prior to accident,” Naik informed the boy, who nodded in reply. She administered a hypospray and then studied his response on the wall screen. When the screen indicated he was conscious, she spoke.

“Losha?”

“Ina.” He responded, turning his head toward her. 

Naalem looked at her expectantly. She nodded and then he spoke. “He says, ‘yes.’ “

“Naalem?” Losha asked.

“Yes, Losha, I’m here. We are on Deep Space Four.”

“You’re here in sickbay, Losha. I am Dr. Naik and Dr. Dvir is here also.”

“What happened?”

“There was an explosion in one of the cargo bins. You injured your head.” Naalem continued.

“There’s something on my head,” Losha said, reaching up to touch the bandages wrapped around his eyes.

“Yes, your head and eyes are bandaged. Don’t try to take them off,” Naik advised.

“Naalem, are you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“You came with me into the cargo bay. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“Yes, but I’m fine. I was in the bay, not in the bin with you.”

“I don’t remember going into the bin. Was anyone else there?”

“No,” replied Naalem.

“No one else was hurt?”

“No.”

“But what happened?”

“Captain Jemel said he thinks it’s something to do with something in the bin being improperly stored.” 

“The chemical oxygen generators in bin three.”

“You remember now?” Naalem was hopeful.

“No, but that’s the only cargo we took on here that could have caused an explosion.”

“Yes, I think that’s what Captain Jemel said.” Naalem informed him.

“How long ago was that?”

‘It’s now 9:17 a.m. on Wednesday,” Naik said, glancing up at the display on the wall. “So you’ve been here almost two days. You’ve sustained a serious head injury and your eyes were exposed to a great deal of oxygen.” She paused, considering the best way to deliver the news. “I have to tell you that your vision may be severely impaired. You may have total vision loss.”

“I might be blind?” His reply seemed as emotionless as any Vulcan’s to Naik. 

“The hyperoxia, the exposure to excess oxygen, may have caused temporary blindness though it’s unlikely it lasted more than a few hours. Still, there could be lingering effects from it such as blurriness. It may be several days before your vision is back to normal. But we are more concerned with vision loss that may have occurred as a result of your head injury. The force of the explosion caused your brain to hit the back of your skull, bruising the occipital lobe, where the visual cortex is located. This may cause vision loss as well.”

“How long could this vision loss last for?” Though she was accustomed to delivering bad news to both patients and their families by now, Naik had to remind herself that nothing was customary about this for the patient.

“At that point we would look into surgery.”

“I see. When will you be able to remove these?” Losha gestured toward the bandages.

“Now, actually. We need to give you eye drops for the hyperoxia and change the bandaging. We’ll have to do this every eight hours. Computer, dim lights by forty percent,” she instructed. The lights dimmed and she carefully removed the bandages as Dvir and Naalem looked on. “Even with the lights being dimmed, it may take your eyes a moment to adjust.”

“I understand.” 

Naik removed the last of the bandaging along with eye pads, revealing bruising on his forehead. It was healing well, however, thanks to his Vulcan physiology. She and Dvir would need to examine the rest of his head but she was most concerned about his vision. 

“You can open your eyes now,” she instructed.


	8. Chapter 8

Minai Desert, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2281.199

Losha opened his eyes to the bright rays of the sun reflecting off the desert sand. The bus had jerked forward suddenly, jolting him from his seat. After over an hour of riding on the desolate desert road, he’d grown tired of looking at sand and had closed his eyes. It would be several more hours before they reached Inz Raan - several more hours of riding on the bumpy road in the old, rickety bus with nothing to look at but the endless desert. The climate controls on the bus seemed to be struggling to produce cool air - most of the Seenans around him were sweating and fanning themselves. For Losha, however, the temperature was comfortable.

He wondered if this is what the deserts on Vulcan were like. As a child, he had often wished he could go there after reading of places like the Fire Plains, The Forge, and Mt. Seleya. He had wanted to know more about these places, places where his ancestors had lived and so he had subjected his parents to an unending series of questions about their home planet. His mother had been hesitant to speak of Vulcan at all, telling him that “the past was the past and we should look to the future.” His father had indulged him at first but eventually began trying to direct Losha’s curiosity elsewhere. He did not sense that his father felt the same regret and longing his mother did when the topic came up though.

Losha had tried to stop thinking and wondering about Vulcan for years, but it hadn’t been easy when he was constantly reminded by the people around him that he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t Seenan, he was Vulcan. He remembered the feeling of constant stares on him and was glad the sur had dulled his senses. He knew the stares were still there but it was a relief to be mostly oblivious to them. He’d still catch someone in a stare from time to time or hear them whispering but wasn’t bothered by it.

He wasn’t bothered by much of anything anymore. He remembered how full of anger he’d once been - angry at his father, angry at the war, and angry that he did not belong anywhere. He couldn’t even fathom becoming that angry again. Being angry took up energy he no longer had. That angry person no longer existed. Now he felt very little of anything. He couldn’t say that he was completely devoid of feeling but he knew he did not react to things in the way a “normal” person would. A normal Seenan anyway. 

He often felt as though he were surrounded by a barrier that prevented the things happening around him from getting through to him. If something pushed against the barrier hard enough or long enough, it would eventually get through, but his barrier held out a lot longer than most people’s. People who didn’t know him didn’t think it odd - they expected Vulcans to be emotionless. He had often wondered if this was what it was like to be Vulcan - to be alive without actually experiencing any kind of feeling. But this feeling of nothingness was so strong that it had stripped away all his energy and ambition and he could not believe that an entire planet of people existed in this manner. Recently, however, a few things had managed to penetrate the nothingness, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He no longer felt capable of handling emotions. At times like these he thought about sur again but knew that was not a possibility. He didn’t want to end up like Joa. His father wouldn’t allow it anyway. He’d already told him he’d lock him up if he suspected he was even considering it. 

A child’s laughter behind him drew him out of his thoughts again. He’d imagined the long trip to Inz Raan would have been a quiet one but there were a number of children on the bus who were talking loudly, laughing, and shrieking. How odd, he thought, that children should be on this bus at all, let alone be laughing along the way. Perhaps they didn’t fully understand where they were going. Perhaps they did. Perhaps they made regular trips to Inz Raan to visit family members. One day Naalem would be one of these children on the bus. 

Naalem. When he returned from Inz Raan he was going to have to pick him up. He didn’t know what he was going to do then. He was not a responsible person and now he was going to have to be responsible for a child. He had never imagined he’d be in this position when he’d agreed to be Naalem’s lel. How naive he had been. He had seen so many people die yet he hadn’t believed that Joa or Yeshayn would ever die or be incapable of taking care of Naalem. If the thought had ever occurred to him, then he’d imagined that Malar, as the boy’s kle, would be there to help him. 

Malar was not the mothering type but somehow he’d imagined that because she was a woman, she would be more capable of taking care of a child than he was. Why had he thought that? She found children annoying. When Joa had tried to get her to hold Naalem shortly after he was born, she had snorted. He had then practically shoved Naalem into her arms and she’d begrudgingly taken him but it had been clear that she found the experience extremely uncomfortable. Malar was gone now, anyway, and he had no way to get in touch with her. She had said she’d be back and while he knew she wouldn’t have said anything she hadn’t meant, he also knew her feelings might change. She’d been wanting to leave Hakar for some time. Wherever she was now, he imagined she found it a much better place than here. There was no reason for her to return except to visit her old friends, both of whom she had said, were ruining their own lives.

When she had come to visit Losha before she left Hakar, Malar had chastised him for not having gone to visit Joa since he’d been in Inz Raan. At that moment something penetrated the barrier -- guilt. Joa had been in Inz Raan for four months and he’d yet to visit him. Malar had been twice. He knew he was a terrible friend for not visiting him but even the enormous feeling of guilt Malar had stirred up in him had not been enough to push him to come here until now, when it was absolutely necessary. And now he felt not only guilt but regret - regret that his first trip here would be as the bearer of bad news.

Part of it had been a desire to avoid a long trip to an unpleasant place. Leaving Undaa and its familiar surroundings made him uncomfortable. It had been over ten years since he’d gone any further than the Sea of Lataan. Though he’d once felt completely at ease being constantly on the move, it now made him anxious. It was another feeling that had penetrated the barrier that he didn’t know what to do with. He’d just been avoiding it by avoiding leaving Undaa. 

The feeling of anxiousness was only half of the reason he’d avoided coming here for so long. The other half was that he didn’t know what to say to Joa anymore. He didn’t even know what to think about Joa anymore. The last time he’d seen him seemed like a lifetime ago. In some ways it was - it had been before the war ended, before his father had returned, and before Joa had killed someone. He didn’t know how to reconcile the fact that since the last time he had seen him, his best friend, one of the kindest and most loyal people he’d ever known, had killed someone and was now spending the next thirty years in prison.


	9. Chapter 9

Minai Desert, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2281.199

Due to the flatness of the landscape, Losha could see Inz Raan long before the bus arrived there. At first it appeared as a bump on the horizon, barely distinguishable from the desert floor. It was the same color as the sand but there were bits of color here and there. When they got much closer, Losha could make out the bits of color - laundry hanging on lines and clothing worn by prisoners walking around in the massive fenced yard surrounding the main building. There were about a dozen smaller buildings outside the confines of the fence - the homes and offices of those who worked there. The buildings were all made of thick stone, which gave them the appearance of being ancient, though in actuality they had been built less than a hundred years ago.

At its peak occupancy nearly seventy years ago, Inz Raan held nearly a thousand prisoners. Its location, however, made it strategically difficult to maintain. It was out in the open desert, five hours from the nearest town. It had been from that town, Limiss, that the bus carrying Losha and the other visitors had departed that morning. The designers of the prison had rightly assumed that a journey of several days through an unforgiving desert would be a deterrent to most potential escapees. During the recent civil war only the most dangerous political prisoners had been housed there; non-political prisoners had been moved to smaller jails and prisons closer to civilization. Now, however, more prisoners were being moved to Inz Raan every day to ease overcrowding elsewhere. 

As the bus drew up near the area where its occupants would be let out, the blandness of everything around him was further cemented in Losha’s mind. How awful it would be to live in this landscape where even the buildings were the same color as the sand. The brightly colored clothing worn by the inmates was not typical of current Hakar fashion. At first he considered that maybe the prisoners preferred such colors because they were the only thing that brought them variety and cheerfulness in the otherwise dull landscape. Then he realized, however, that it was more likely the bright colors meant the guards could easily spot them.

This realization was confirmed when the bus came to a stop and a guard wearing sand-colored clothing climbed aboard. He informed them that prior to entering the prison grounds, they would enter the building on the left, inform the guard at the desk whom they were visiting, and be scanned for contraband. The guard had clearly given the same speech dozens of times before and some of the bus’s occupants had clearly heard it dozens of times because they continued to chatter while he talked. 

After passing through the scanners, Losha and the other visitors were allowed to walk through the gate into the prison grounds. The guard at the desk had informed Losha that the prisoners receiving visitors would be informed and could be found in a large hall inside the main building which other guards would direct them to. It took some time to get through the scanners as most of the other visitors had brought boxes and packages along with them and these all had to be scanned and examined as well. It hadn’t even occurred to Losha to bring anything for Joa. Since he had been informed of Yeshayn’s death three days ago, he had been in a complete haze. He couldn’t even really say what he was thinking as he approached the large main building. 

Guards then directed him and the others down a hallway that bisected the building and through a door on the left about halfway down the hallway. Both the hallway and the room he then entered had high ceilings and sound echoed all around them. It was a large room with many long benches and he could see prisoners beginning to trickle in through a doorway in the back right corner. As they recognized their family members or friends, visitors rushed up to greet them. Losha stood off to the right so as not to be in the way of visitors who were coming in behind him.

He stared at the doorway in the corner, scanning each face that came out. Eventually he recognized Joa, wearing a bright blue shirt and purple pants. He immediately thought of a similarly colored blue sweater that Joa had frequently worn when they were children. The color suited him. Joa quickly noticed Losha standing off to the side and a great grin crept across his face. He strode toward him, his arms out, but dropped them to his side and paused when we was within a few meters of Losha, discerning his unease.

“Don’t I look ridiculous in these pants?” He grinned. Losha gave him a weak smile in reply. It was still the same Joa, he told himself, but he wasn’t completely reassured.

“I was beginning to think you’d never come to see me.” As Joa’s smile faded, he looked at Losha wistfully.

“I should have come sooner,” was all Losha could manage in reply. 

“You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”

“No.” It was the truth; he wasn’t afraid of Joa, he just didn’t know who he was anymore or how to react to him.

“Maybe not afraid but you aren’t sure whether I am the same Joa you’ve known all these years,” he said, sighing. Joa could read him so well. “I’ve done a terrible thing. I killed someone. It’s hard for me to even believe. But I am still the same person.”

Losha didn’t know what to say so he said nothing. He wasn’t angry with Joa, he understood it had not been intentional. He had heard the whole story from Malar. Joa had been high at the time and had gotten into an argument with a man over money or sur or both. He had taken out his phaser and vaporized the man. He’d told Malar that he didn’t really think the phaser would kill him though he had known it was set on kill. He’d told her the whole thing seemed like a dream. 

Losha knew this feeling - of being on sur and feeling as if he was watching everything happening from outside of his body. No, he wasn’t angry at Joa, but he had a horrible feeling about the whole situation. He could very well have been in Joa’s place right now had he been the one who had gotten into an argument with some man while he’d been high. That was the main source of his unease - knowing that some part of him was just as capable of vaporizing someone as Joa had been.

“Strange, when we last met, our positions were reversed, weren’t they?” Joa tilted his head. He was referring to the fact that seven months earlier, Joa had been the one visiting Losha when he’d been detained at Jail Number Six in Undaa. That was the last time they’d seen each other. Joa had been arrested a short time after that and by the time Losha was released from jail, Joa had been moved to Inz Raan to serve out a thirty year sentence. 

“Yes. You always came to visit me. I should have come sooner. I’m sorry.” Remorse washed over him. He had been feeling guilty about not visiting Joa because Malar had done her best to make him feel guilty. Now, however, he felt true remorse. Joa *had* always come to visit him, each of the three times he’d been detained there, even when he’d only been serving a thirty day sentence.

“It’s alright. I’m glad you’re here now.” He smiled his big wide smile again. “Do you want to sit down somewhere?”

“If you like, but I’m tired of sitting after being on that bus for so long.”

“I get tired of sitting here too. We’ll stand then, for now.” Losha nodded his head. “Your father’s come back. Malar told me!” 

“Yes, he had me released from jail. It was kind of a shock.”

“You still seemed pretty shocked. But you must be happy?” Joa asked questioningly.

“Yes... It’s just complicated.” He hadn’t come here to discuss his father with Joa. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Joa would ask about him but of course he would. Joa cared about him and wanted him to be happy. “We can talk about him another time. I actually came to talk to you about something else.”

“What?” He seemed eager to hear the reason and that made telling it so much more difficult.

“There was an accident. An old explosive on Maret Street went off. It killed three people.” He had practiced the words hundreds of times in his head but he couldn’t finish them.

“Yes?” Joa still wore the puzzled look on his face.

“It killed Yeshayn. She was one of the three people.”

“What?”

“Yeshayn’s dead. I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”

“What about Naalem?”

“He wasn’t there. He’s fine. He’s with Yeshayn’s friend Polan. She’s the one who told me.”

“When did this happen?” 

“Four days ago.” 

“She’s really dead?”

“Yes.”

Later, Losha couldn’t really remember much of the other things he and Joa had discussed that day. Probably they hadn’t discussed much at all. They were both in shock. Joa and Yeshayn hadn’t been married, hadn’t even been in love. They had been using each other for sur and other drugs and sex. Her relationship with Joa had been virtually over when she’d become pregnant with Naalem. Though he knew that Joa hadn’t been in love with Yeshayn - he’d often expressed his regret that he’d ever gotten involved with her - he also knew that the news of her death must have been very difficult for him to hear. She was the mother of his son, after all. 

Losha hadn’t known Yeshayn very well even though he had spent a good deal of time in her company after she and Joa had met. He had liked her well enough but as with most of the people he had hung around in those days, he’d only known her on a superficial level. Sur was the only thing they’d had in common. And after she’d become pregnant, Yeshayn had stopped using sur and stopped hanging around them. He’d only occasionally seen her after that. She had always been kind to him, though, and seemed genuinely happy to see him when they did happen to cross paths. 

One thing Losha did remember from that first visit to Inz Raan was repeatedly attempting to reassure Joa that he would take care of Naalem. Polan had agreed to keep him temporarily but he could not remain with her indefinitely. That had been the main cause of his shock. He hadn’t been close enough to Yeshayn to feel any kind of great pain at her death - he’d seen too many people die to be affected by it - but the fact that he was now responsible for Naalem was something he hadn’t completely accepted yet. Even as he reassured Joa he found he had no idea how he would fulfill his promises to him. The situation seemed completely unrealistic.

On the bus ride back to Limiss, Joa found that some of the emptiness he had been feeling on the ride to Inz Raan earlier that day had lifted. Joa was still Joa, despite what he had done, and that reassuring. He had been telling the truth when he’d told Joa that the situation with his father was complicated. It had been three months since he’d been reunited with his father after a nearly twelve year separation. It had been just a few months before his eleventh birthday when his father had left Senes. The war had prevented him from returning sooner. 

So much had happened in those twelve years. He had grown up and was no longer the child his father had known. He hadn’t just grown up but he had become a completely different person. He was also beginning to realize that his father was a different person too. Not that his father had necessarily changed the way he had - much about him was exactly as Losha remembered him - but that his ten-year-old self had never really understood the person his father was to begin with.


	10. Chapter 10

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.247

“Can you see anything, Losha?” Naalem asked.

Losha opened his eyes to nothingness. “No.”

“I’m going to run a scanner over your eyes. It’s a very bright light. Let me know if you notice any change to your vision,” Dr. Naik instructed. Losha felt her leaning over him but still saw nothing.

“Can you see anything? Any change in the light?”

“No.” 

“Alright, well, we thought this could be a possibility. The goods news is that Dr. Dvir has consulted with colleagues on Vulcan and they feel with surgery, there is a very good chance your vision can be restored.”

“Yes, the success rate for this surgery is a 98.2 percent chance of partial visual restoration and an 87.7 percent chance of complete visual restoration.” Dr. Dvir confirmed.

“When will you perform the surgery?”

“Oh, we won’t be performing it. It’s going to require the expertise of a neurosurgeon. Dr. Dvir will contact her colleagues on Vulcan and then we can make your travel arrangements.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Your nephew informed us of your situation as a stateless person. Getting you special permission to travel to Vulcan shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Are you certain?” 

“I have consulted with Ambassador Sarek and he believes it can be arranged due to the circumstances,” Dvir replied.

“Ambassador Sarek saved your life!” Losha could hear the excitement in Naalem’s voice.

“What do you mean, Naalem?”

Naalem proceeded to explain to him how the ambassador had donated his blood, thereby saving his life. Dr. Naik then busied herself with administering the eye drops and re-applying the bandages , which she explained would need to remain on for several more days. She and Dr. Dvir then excused themselves to review the information the optical scanner had just recorded.

Everything seemed completely unreal to Losha. Was this a sur induced hallucination? He hadn’t touched the stuff in years but he once again had that feeling of being disembodied. This time, however, he could not see what was happening around him. It must be real. 

He imagined what Doctors Dvir and Naik looked like and realized they probably looked nothing like he imagined. He remembered his experience of finally meeting a dispatch agent he had talked to numerous times in the course of his work. The agent had a deep voice, talked slowly, and often let his sentences trail off. Losha had imagined him as being tall and thin with a big mop of hair. When he finally met him in person after months of subspace voice communications, he was shocked to find that he was of average height, quite plump, and bald. It had taken some time for him to reconcile his voice to the image of him he’d had in his mind.

Since he couldn’t see anything, there was nothing he could do but sit and wait. He was eager to learn what Naalem had been up to the past few days while he was unconscious. Naalem told him about Amanda, Ambassador Sarek’s human wife, whom he had gotten to know over the past two days. Losha had met the Amanda in the observation area the night but had not known her name or who she was at the time. Naalem had later mentioned that she was the Vulcan ambassador’s wife and Losha had found that odd: a Vulcan with a wife who seemed to Losha like any other human in her behavior. If her husband was an ambassador representing Vulcan surely he must be a follower of logic - Vulcans who embraced emotion like his parents had were exiled. Yet this ambassador had married a human. It seemed incongruous.

Naalem was never lacking for something to say so it was easy to sit there and listen and not think about the fact that he couldn’t see anything. He imagined the only reason he couldn’t see was the bandage covering his head. He attempted to block out the apprehension that crept into him when he thought of having to travel to Vulcan for surgery. The doctors had seemed confident but there was much they didn’t know. If he knew one thing, it was that Vulcans didn’t bend rules. He had been talking to Naalem for perhaps an hour or so when he heard a door opening to his right. 

“Ambassador Sarek!” Naalem exclaimed. Losha turned towards the sound of the door instinctively but quickly turned back, realizing the futility of it. He could hear the ambassador moving toward him.

“Good morning. You must be Naalem.”

“Yes.”

“May I speak with your uncle alone?”

“Yes.” Losha could hear Naalem moving around the bed. “I’ll be back soon, Losha.” Then, when he realized Naalem must be very close to the door, he heard, “Thank you, Ambassador Sarek, for what you did. I know I told your wife to thank you but I didn’t get to thank you myself.” Naalem seemed hesitant, which wasn’t like him at all. He was typically friendly, outgoing, and confident - very much like his father. Losha supposed the Vulcan ambassador must be quite intimidating.

“You are welcome, Naalem.” He heard the door close behind Naalem as he left.

“I must thank you myself, Ambassador. I am grateful to you. I hear I could have died if you hadn’t been here.”

“It is only logical to help where one can.”

“Thank you nonetheless.” For the first time since he had regained consciousness, an awkward silence permeated the room. He focused on the soft hum and occasional beeps emanating from the back of the biobed and waited for the ambassador to continue.

“I am pleased to see that you’re recovery is progressing.” The words were followed by more silence. Losha didn’t know what to say until it struck him that he hadn’t introduced himself.

“I’m Losha, by the way,” he trailed off. “But I suppose you know that.” He grinned, then realized that was probably the wrong thing to do in front a Vulcan ambassador but it wasn’t something he could consciously control. 

“I am Sarek. But I suppose you know that as well.” He almost heard a smile in the man’s voice, if it were possible to hear a smile.

“Doctors Dvir and Naik have informed me it will be necessary for you to travel to Vulcan for surgery. They have also informed me that you are not, in fact, a citizen of Vulcan. Is that information correct?”

“Yes, I’m a stateless person.”

“And I am to understand that you have never been to Vulcan and your stateless status is a result of your parents also being stateless persons?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I do not wish to pry into your personal matters but it will be necessary to verify this information. I have forwarded an application for special travel permission to Dr. Naik so she can assist you in completing it. Once the information submitted is verified by the necessary authorities on Vulcan, I can make travel arrangements for you.”

“Thank you. For all your help.” For a moment he had thought the ambassador *was* going to pry into his personal matters and he hadn’t been prepared for that. When he was younger, he had been able to sense when someone wasn’t being completely honest. If the ambassador’s telepathic skills were at least as good as his had been, he would probably have sensed if Losha had held anything back. If they were as good as his father’s were, he would probably recognize a lie outright. 

“You are most welcome. I do not wish to disturb you further so I will take my leave of you for now. Sochya eh dif.”

Their entire conversation had been in Standard until those last words, peace and long life. He found his left hand automatically raising and forming the ta’al. 

“Sochya eh dif, kevet-dutar.” Peace and long life, ambassador. How strange to once again here his native tongue coming off his lips. A few minutes after the ambassador left, the faint noises of the biobed were again interrupted by movement.

“Losha, it’s Dr. Naik.” Her voice was friendly. He could tell from where it emanated that she must be significantly shorter than Ambassador Sarek. He wondered if Naalem and Dr. Dvir came back in the room whether he could determine how tall they were in relation to each other. He hadn’t been paying attention to that when he’d first regained consciousness.

“Hello, Dr. Naik.”

“So Ambassador Sarek spoke to you about the application for travel to Vulcan?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to help you fill it out. Are you hungry? I can bring you something to eat before we get started.”

“Let’s just get it done. I have no appetite.”

“That’s a side effect of some of the medications. You will need to try to eat soon though.”

“I understand.”

“Alright, we’ll get started so I can send this off. Hopefully it won’t take long for them to approve it. I don’t think we have to worry what with Vulcans being as efficient as they are.” She chuckled.

“I’m ready.” Yes, he thought, it was best to get this over as quickly as possible. He knew the form, had looked it over several years ago the first time he’d been assigned to a route that included Vulcan. He hadn’t bothered to fill it out then and had stayed on the ship for the day it remained in orbit around Vulcan. Vulcan had been on his route about a dozen times in the intervening years and he’d never bothered to look at the form again. He always remained on the ship. 

“O.K. I’m just going to read the form out to you.”

“Alright.”

“Your legal name at birth?”

“Velekh.” It was a name he hadn’t spoken aloud in years.


	11. Chapter 11

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2270.135

“Velekh!”

Velekh had been sitting at the bottom of the staircase in front of Apartment One, listening to the music coming from inside. The music was always playing during this time of the day. Like today, it was usually an old instrumental piece from Ursai, the country the old man who lived in Apartment One came from. It reminded Velekh vaguely of classical music from Earth he had heard before but this Ursai music had a different tempo and clearly some of the instruments used were not the ones used in Earth music. Sometimes the music had loud, triumphant vocals. Velekh didn’t speak Ursai so he didn’t understand the lyrics, but he was fascinated by them nonetheless.

Occasionally the old man would open the door when Velekh happened to be passing the apartment and Velekh would see him waving his hands in time with the music and humming along loudly. He had been nervous about speaking to the old man at first and used to hurry past him with a nod of the head. Several months ago, however, he had been sitting in this same spot on the stairs and had been so caught up in the music that he hadn’t noticed the old man emerging from the door until it closed behind him.

He learned then that the old man’s name was Orat and that the young man Velekh had seen coming and going from the apartment was his grandson, Kadren. Orat and Kadren had moved to Undaa seven years earlier from Ursan when Kadren had been slightly older than Velekh was now, which was nearly eleven. Ursai was too cold a climate for an old man like him, Orat had told him. The old man spoke Haka with a thick accent that was sometimes difficult to understand, but he since he also spoke very slowly, Velekh could understand him better than most Hakarans. He was still learning the language himself and sometimes had difficulty following when people spoke too fast. Standard was Velekh’s second language but he had found that those Hakarans who did speak it did not speak it particularly well. 

Orat had told him he was welcome to stop in the apartment any time to talk or listen to music. His grandson was always out with friends and Velekh knew he was lonely. He was a fascinating old man. Though he had never been off Senes, he was well read and knew about many of the planets Velekh had visited and even much about Vulcan. Sometimes Velekh would talk to him for hours. Today, however, he had not knocked on the old man’s door because he was supposed to be on Marhilfan Street by now. He wasn’t sure how long he had had been sitting there, listening to the music, but apparently it had been some time because his mother was now yelling at him from just outside their apartment door at the top of the stairway.

“Velekh! Po nam-tor du fam dvun la'? Why are you still here?” She was irritated. 

“I’m leaving now!” He pulled the shopping bags off his lap, got up, and, without turning to look back at her, hurried out the front door of the building. She had just wanted him out of the apartment so she could speak to his father via a subspace link. She probably imagined he was hanging around on the stairs in order to eavesdrop, which really wasn’t the case. He couldn’t hear anything over the music and even if he could, he knew they would just be having the same discussion they’d been having over and over again since his father had left Senes five months ago. Actually, they’d been having that same discussion since about a month before his father left, so it had been going on for six months.

They had arrived on Senes from Rhaandar VI eight months ago. After a few months on Senes, his father had been ready to move on. His mother, however, had decided she’d wanted to stay. There was no restriction on the amount of time off-worlders, including stateless persons, could stay in Hakar and his mother had wanted a break from moving. Aside from the three years they’d spent on Ivor Prime, the longest they were usually in one place was 90 to 180 days, depending on the the planet. 

His father had felt that things in Hakar, while stable at the time they’d arrived, were not likely to remain that way. His mother believed his father was exaggerating his concerns over the political situation because he disliked staying in one place for too long and had had enough of Senes. After about a month of repeated discussions on the topic, his father had reluctantly left with the goal of locating a suitable planet for them to settle on for at least a few years. Velekh understood that a few years was the most they could hope for because his father became increasingly restless the longer they spent in any given spot.

Initially, his father had said he would be gone for no more than a month, two at the most. One month turned into two and when two turned into three, a planetwide travel ban to and from Senes had been implemented. If only his father had come back when he’d promised, they’d all be together now. If only he and his mother had left Senes with his father, they wouldn’t be stuck here alone now. Not that it was a bad place to be stuck - Hakar had a mild climate and friendly people, and Velekh was fascinated by the architecture. Undaa was full of ancient buildings with thick stone walls, so different from many of the modern buildings on the newer colonies they’d stayed on. 

But now war was encroaching from the eastern part of the country. Forces trying to overthrow the current government had launched missile attacks against Undaa. Things remained relatively safe in the capital city, however, due to a highly sophisticated anti-missile system called Sheyhaar. Velekh knew that a few missiles had managed to get past Sheyhaar but that had been outside the city limits and damage had been reported as minimal. As violent crimes in Undaa were rare compared to many of the places they had lived in, Velekh felt completely at ease navigating the old city streets alone. 

His apartment lay in the ninth district, on the northwest side of the city, just outside the city center, known simply as the Center. He would need to walk to the Circle, the old wide road that encircled the Center, to catch a tram to the southern part of the Center, where Marhilfan Street was located. There were plenty of stores and markets closer to the apartment but his mother had specifically asked him to go to Marhilfan Street to pick up some spices and a melon from a certain vendor there. He knew this was only because she wanted him out of the apartment for a few hours. She didn’t even like melons. He walked past Bennor Street and heard a familiar voice call to him from around the corner.

“Where are you headed, Losha?” It was Kadren, Orat’s grandson, a thin young man with very closely cut hair. Kadren’s skin tone, like his grandfather’s, was lighter than that of native Hakans since he came from a country with a much colder climate. His skin was actually nearly the same shade as Velekh’s. In that way, they both stood out among the native population. Kadren insisted on calling him Losha, a Haka name that meant handsome. Velekh wasn’t bothered by it - though he didn’t know him well, Kadren was kind and he understood he only meant it as a compliment.

“Marhilfan Street.”

“I’m going into the Center too. I’ll walk with you to the tram stop.” Kadren fell in alongside him and they continued on. The had nearly reached the tram stop when a piercing sound hit the air. 

“It’s Sheyhaar!” Kadren shouted and he pulled Velekh to the ground. The sound, which sounded like some enormous wailing animal, continued on for several minutes as they lay there on the ground. Then there was the noise of explosions, which didn’t last long, perhaps a minute. Then there was silence.


	12. Chapter 12

Undaa, Hakar, Stardate 2270.135

Velekh knew she was dead even before he and Kadren had deemed it safe to pick themselves up off the ground and look around. The area immediately surrounding them was undamaged but he didn’t notice.

“My mother’s dead.”

“What?”

“My mother’s dead.”

“How do you know?”

“I can sense it. She’s dead!” Velekh felt like the words were coming out of someone else’s mouth.

“Can you be sure?”

“Yes.” 

“What about my grandfather?”

“I don’t know, but a lot of people are dead!”

The next three days were a blur for Velekh. He could only think about how he might find a way to speak with his father. He was last in the Algeron system but Velekh was unsure whether he was still there and he had no way to contact him. In his own despair, he was only vaguely cognizant of Kadren’s. In later years he would regret that he had only been thinking of himself at the time.

The center of the explosion had been the southeastern part of the 17th district, which was adjacent to the northwest part of the 9th district, where the apartment building on Alseren Street was located. The amount of debris blocking the roadways prevented them from accessing Alseren or any of the adjacent streets. Rescue workers had directed them to a shelter, where they found themselves among dozens of other people who were unable to return to their homes. Velekh didn’t sleep and he couldn’t remember if he ate at all during that time. Kadren was constantly checking the database containing the names and locations of those who had been rescued. Some survivors were at other shelters, some at hospitals. Neither Kadren’s grandfather’s nor Velekh’s mother’s name appeared in the database.  
On the third morning after the rocket attack, survivors staying at the shelter who had not been reunited with missing family members were directed to several hospitals around the city were bodies of victims were being housed. Most family members would have to visit multiple hospitals as unidentified bodies were only listed by gender, approximate age, and the location where they had been found. Kadren informed Velekh that they would be going to City Hospital #3. Velekh did not want to go. He knew his mother was dead but he did not want to go to a morgue and look for her body. Kadren, however, pulled him along, insisting that not going was not an option. 

On the tram ride to the hospital, for the first time since he had become aware of his mother’s death, his own emotions subsided sufficiently for him to pick up on Kadren’s. He was surprised that Kadren had already accepted the idea that his grandfather was dead. He did not seem emotional about it but instead, resolute. Had he determined from the description in the database that Orat’s body was among those at the morgue? Surely there must be a number of old men who were killed in the attack.

The morgue at the Undaa City Hospital #3 was the first place Velekh had ever seen a dead body. Although Velekh had sensed that “a lot” of people had died, the actual number would later be determined to be 123. It was quite a small number considering how densely populated Undaa was. Rescue workers had been able to free many people trapped in debris. A man with a tablet sat at the entrance to the morgue, asking questions about each person’s missing family member and directing them to bodies that matched the description. As Velekh and Kadren approached, the man’s lips pursed. His gaze was focused on Velekh.

“I am looking for my grandfather. He is 79. He is looking for his mother.” Kadren glanced at Velekh.

“The woman is on the left. Number seventeen.” Then, glancing at the tablet, he said, “Try eight and...twenty-four for the man. On the right. My condolences.”

Velekh did not want to enter the room but there were people waiting behind them. Kadren put his hands on Velekh’s shoulders and pushed him through the doorway and off to the left. The bodies were laid out on trays, covered in silvery cloths. Each tray had a piece of paper affixed to the end. #15, adult female, Alseren Street was the first one he saw. Then #22, young adult female, Alseren Street. Then #17, Vulcan female, Alseren Street. Velekh froze.

“Do you want me to look?” Kadren asked.

Velekh didn’t know what to say. Obviously, this was his mother. Could there be more than one Vulcan female who happened to be on Alseren Street at the time of the attack? He hadn’t seen a Vulcan in Undaa in several months. When a minute or two passed and he hadn’t responded, Karden asked again.

“Losha? Do you want me to look?”

“Yes.” He didn’t know what else to say. He continued to stare at the paper reading #17, Vulcan female, Alseren Street and tried to ignore the noise of Kadren moving around the tray.

“I’m sorry, Losha. It’s her.” Velekh did not look up from the sign.

“Do you want to see her?”

“No,” he said, but found his legs moving of their own accord until he had come around the tray until he was standing beside Kadren. Her face was pale, dirty, and the right side had smudges of dried blood on it. He turned his head away. 

“I need to find my grandfather.”

“Maybe he’s still alive.” Velekh didn’t know why he said this.

“I don’t think so.” Kadren turned and walked to the other side of the room where the bodies of the men were laid out.

Orat had been #8. Like his mother’s face, Orat’s had been pale and dirty but Velekh remembered that there had been no blood. Later, Velekh often wished that he hadn’t looked at them. That night at the shelter he was unable to get their dead faces out of his mind. When the lights had been turned out, he found he was unable to stop from crying uncontrollably. He hadn’t even looked at her when he had left the apartment building. He had just run out the door. It had been his last opportunity to look at his mother and he hadn’t. Now his last memory of her was the dead face. He tried to stifle his sobs in the pillow, embarrassed at the thought that the strangers in the beds around him would hear him crying. Soon Kadren appeared, helped him out of bed, and brought him out into the small courtyard behind the building.

The stone courtyard was filled with potted plants, benches, and a few solar-powered lights on poles. Kadren directed Velekh to a bench and when he had sat down, he covered him with a blanket he hadn’t even realized Kadren had been carrying. It was a warm night and a blanket was unnecessary, but he pulled it over himself nonetheless. The two of them sat there for some time, saying nothing. Velekh finally realized that he had stopped crying. The silence made him uncomfortable. 

“Can I ask you something, Kadren?”

“Of course.”

“On the tram, on the way to the hospital, I sensed something from you…” He trailed off. He knew people found it uncomfortable that he could sense things from them. His mother had repeatedly had to remind him of this when he was younger. Should he not be able to block certain things out, he was to keep his mouth shut. But he was unable to stop himself from asking in the same way he had been unable to stop himself from looking at his mother’s face in the morgue.

“What did you sense?”

“You had already accepted that Orat - your grandfather - was dead. Your mind was calm. Even now your mind is calm. How is it that you are calm? I can’t make my mind calm like that.”

“I’m used to death. I learned to accept it a long time ago. My grandfather lived a much longer life than most of my family and, in the end, he was free for a time.”

“What do you mean?’

“My whole family was killed in Ursai. Everyone except me and my grandfather.”

“There was a war in Ursai too?”

“No, not a war. The political situation there was very bad. The government killed millions of people.”

“Millions of people?” Velekh couldn’t believe it. Orat had never mentioned anything about this.

“Yes, over the course of maybe thirty years. Things are better there now but still not good. That’s why we came here.”

“Your grandfather said he came here because he didn’t like the cold.”

Kadren chuckled. “No, he didn’t like the cold.”

“So he really came here to escape the government in Ursai?”

“Yes, even now, no one is really free there. You can only be free in your mind.”

“That’s why my parents left Vulcan too.”

“People aren’t free on Vulcan?” Kadren looked surprised.

“You aren’t free to have emotions. People aren’t really even free in their minds because they don’t allow themselves to feel emotion. Their minds are like prisons.”

“Well, I suppose a prison of the mind can be just as much a prison as a real prison.” 

When Velekh returned to his bed that night, he thought about this surprising revelation from Kadren. Would he come to accept death as Kadren did, so calmly? It seemed impossible. He did not want to accept it. He wanted to will his mother back to life.

Within fifteen months, Kadren would also be dead, killed by an explosive dropped from a drone small enough to get past Sheyhaar undetected. Velekh had been there when they pulled his body, along with those of the three other victims, out from the debris. He forced himself to look at his face.


	13. Chapter 13

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.147

After completing the application for special travel permission to Vulcan with the help of Dr. Naik, Losha had little time to think about it. No sooner had the doctor left his bedside to submit the application, then the voice of what sounded like a young woman introduced herself as Ensign Santos, a nurse. She explained that the food synthesizers on the station were capable of creating dishes from Vulcan, Senes, or just about any planet in the galaxy and asked whether there was anything he preferred to eat. 

“Can it make korsel? It’s a Hakaran soup.”

“I’m sure it can. I’ll go see. Do you want any crackers with that? Or bread, or rice? Or anything else?”

“No, I’m not really hungry. I don’t think I can eat it.”

“Alright. Let me check to see if it can make korsel, right?”

“Yes.” He heard her walking across the room.

“One bowl of korsel soup,” he heard her say.

“It’s working!” He heard some slight banging and then her footsteps approached him. “I’m going extend a tray across your lap, OK?”

“Yes.” He could hear her hit a button and felt movement across his lap.

“Do you want me to feed it to you or do you think you can do it yourself?” Losha hadn’t even thought about that fact that it might not be easy to eat soup he couldn’t see. Bread may have been a better choice. But soup did not need to be cut so it was probably a better choice than other things. How did one cut one’s food without seeing it?

“I will try to eat it myself.”

“OK. I’ll be right here in case you need any help.” 

Losha felt the tray for the bowl and spoon. If he bent his head low enough to the bowl, he thought, he could avoid making any mess. After a few spoonfuls he found that it was not that difficult, though because his head was bent at angle over the bowl, some of it was dripping down his chin. He knew the ensign was probably watching him and felt embarrassed. He felt on the tray for a napkin, found one, and wiped his chin. He finished as much as he could with the spoon. Sure enough, the ensign was at his side instantly to pick up the bowl, spoon, and napkin.

“Do you want anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“A drink, maybe?”

“No, I just had all that liquid.”

“Oh, yeah,” he heard her laugh.

“Do you need to use the toilet?”

“No, not now.”

“I can send Crewman Janda, the medic, in. He’s a man.”

“No, maybe in a little bit.”

“OK. If you feel on the left side of your bed, there’s a button. Yes, that one. Just hit that if you need anything and either myself or Crewman Janda will be right in.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Oh, do you feel up to having visitors? A lot of people want to see you. Dr. Naik said it’s fine for them to say hello for a minute or two as long as it’s fine with you. Your nephew’s welcome to stay as long as he likes but the captain of your ship and some of the other crew members would like to see you also.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” If he kept himself occupied talking, his mind wouldn’t dwell on the application. 

That afternoon he received what seemed like an endless stream of visitors. First it was Captain Jemel and Tashan, the first officer, followed by Lazor, the medic, then the rest of the crew members, including those Losha did not know well. Even Ambassador Tala dropped by sick bay briefly to wish him well. Per Naik’s orders, none stayed long, just a few minutes each. 

Some time after finishing the soup, he found he did have to use the toilet. He requested the medic’s assistance. Although he realized Ensign Santos was a nurse and was probably used to dealing with such issues, he found it too awkward to have a presumably young woman assist him with something so personal. Perhaps if she had sounded old, he might feel differently, but he imagined her as being young and pretty, with dark hair. For all he knew she could be an old, white-haired woman with a young-sounding voice but that was not how he saw her in his mind. For now it would have to be 

Naalem returned some time after the last of the visitors, just as he was eating lunch. This time Losha had asked for bread. He knew eventually they would want him to eat vegetables, some of which might need to be cut. He disliked the idea of having someone feed him - being dependent on others in any way made him uncomfortable. Naalem was on his PADD, playing some kind of game, the beeps of which seemed to alternate with the beeps of the biobed. He found that when there was nothing to look at to distract one’s attention, the beeping of the game was even more annoying than usual. He was about to tell Naalem to turn the volume off when he heard the doors of sickbay opening once again.

“Hello, Amanda,” he heard Naalem say and the beeping of the game stopped.

“Good afternoon, Naalem.”

“Hello, Losha, I’m Amanda, Ambassador Sarek’s wife.” Her footsteps approached his bed. “I didn’t mean to disturb your lunch. I can come back later.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m done. I was just going to have the nurse take this away anyway.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from your nephew.”

“Thank you for keeping him company.”

“Well, he’s good company.” There was a smile in her voice. “I’m so glad you’re awake and doing better.”

“Thank you.”

“I wanted to let you know that Sarek has passed your application for travel to Vulcan on to the immigration authorities there. He put in his personal recommendation that you be approved.”

“I really appreciate it. He’s done a lot for me already.”

“He’s happy to help. He won’t say that, of course, he’ll just say it’s only logical, but I know he’s glad to help all the same.”

“Yes, I don’t often hear Vulcans and happy in the same sentence.” Losha smiled and Amanda laughed.

“They’re perfectly capable of being happy, they just won’t ever admit it.”

“Perhaps. Naalem tells me you have lived on Vulcan for many years.”

“Yes, it’s been sixty years now.”

“And yet it does not seem to me that you follow the Vulcan belief in the suppression of emotions?” Losha was intensely curious about this human woman who had been living for so long among a people who did not display their emotions. How did she manage when his own parents, who were natives of the planet, could not?

“Oh, no. I understand the Vulcan way, why they feel it’s necessary, I really do, but it isn’t my way. I’ll always be human.”

“They don’t mind that you live on their planet and yet do not follow their way of life?”

“No, but they don’t expect me to. They understand that I’m human. I’m sure you’ve heard of IDIC - infinite diversity in infinite combinations. They expect diversity. There are a number of aliens living on Vulcan.”

“Perhaps they accept diversity among aliens but they aren’t so accepting of it among their own people. I am sure Naalem has told you that my parents were exiled from Vulcan because they did not believe that the suppression of emotions is healthy.”

“They aren’t perfect,” Amanda sighed. “And sometimes I don’t follow their logic.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. You have no control over this matter.” Losha realized he had perhaps spoken too quickly in anger and did not want to upset this old woman who had been kind to Naalem and whose husband had saved his life.

“I understand. It must be strange to you that I have been living as an alien on a planet that your parents left.”

“It’s interesting to me, at any rate. It’s not difficult for you?” Though he had lived on Senes long enough that it was now “home,” Losha knew the strangeness of living on an alien planet among alien people. For him, however, having no home and no people, being an alien was simply a part of his existence. This woman, however, had chosen to live this way. He couldn’t compare it to his parents leaving Vulcan because it hadn’t been a choice for them. 

“No, not anymore. I’m used to it now. But soon you can see for yourself what it’s like.”

“Yes. I can’t really imagine.”

“Did you ever wonder?”

“Yes,” he said. “When I was a child.”


	14. Chapter 14

New Miami, Ivor Prime, Stardate 2266.136

What Losha remembered most about Ivor Prime was the glass. Modern, angular, shiny glass buildings, glass solar panels, glass doors on the houses. When the sun was shining, it was reflected everywhere in the glass. When they’d first arrived on the planet, they lived in an apartment in one of those modern glass buildings. He thought the building had around twenty-five floors and they’d lived on the sixteenth but he didn’t remember clearly; he had only been five at the time and they lived there less than a year. Much clearer was the memory of the day he’d cut his finger on the glass. 

He had been playing with some other children in the small grassy area surrounding the building. The children were all human and until that day, he hadn’t really understood there were significant differences between humans and Vulcans. Humans seemed no different than Vulcans except for their round ears. Actually, since he had met few Vulcans aside from his parents, he thought of himself, his parents, and those few other Vulcans as just humans with pointed ears.

He remembered the sound of the glass smashing as a ball flew into a small ground solar panel that powered the lights that lined the walkway between the building and the grassy area. Velekh had been playing near the panel and Jason, a brown-skinned boy who never seemed to wear a shirt, approached to retrieve the ball. Jason had a navel that protruded - strange that after all these years, that was another thing he remembered. The ball was only a few steps from Velekh so he walked over to pick it up and hand it to Jason. That was when he cut his finger. It was just a small cut on his index finger but it seemed to bleed a lot at first. 

“Your blood is green!” Jason exclaimed as Velekh handed him the ball. He hadn’t known how to respond. Why was this boy surprised that blood was green? “Hey, Christopher! Marie! Jerome! Hey, Anna! Come here! Look at this! Velekh’s blood is green!” Velekh soon found himself surrounded by a small group of children gawking at him. He could no longer remember who said what. He didn’t even remember all of the children who had been there.

“Eww, why is your blood green?” A girl made a face of disgust.

“Yeah, what happened to your blood?” Jason seemed puzzled rather than disgusted.

“Blood is green. It’s supposed to be green.” Velekh finally replied, still not understanding.

“No, blood is red, not green!” Another boy insisted.

“You’re trying to trick me!” Velekh suddenly realized it was just a game and he’d finally caught on.

“No, blood is usually red. Look!” Jason picked up a shard of glass and drew it across his own finger. Red blood seeped over Jason’s brown skin. How strange, he remembered thinking.

“Maybe it’s because your ears are pointy.” Jason concluded. “Do your parents have green blood too?”

“Yes.”

“Then that must be why. If your ears are pointy, your blood is green and if they’re round, your blood is red.”

“Ewww, that’s weird!” Another boy shouted. “You’re weird! People with pointy ears have green blood! I’m going to tell my mom!”

It had seemed an unbearably long period of time that the children had surrounded him, staring and shouting. In reality it had probably been less than fifteen minutes before the group finally scattered when an adult approached and demanded to know who had broken the solar panel. Jason admitted his guilt and the woman asked to be taken to his parents.

“You should go home and get that healed,” she instructed Velekh as she turned to walk away with Jason. He followed her advice, glad to be away from the other children. 

“Ko-mekh,” he said as his mother ran the dermal regenerator over his finger, “Jason cut his finger too and his blood was red. The other children said blood is supposed to be red.”

“Yes, human blood is red.”

“People with round ears have red blood and people with pointed ears have green blood?”

“Humans have round ears and red blood and Vulcans have pointed ears and green blood.”

“Why?”

“Because human blood is iron based and Vulcan blood is copper based.”

“What does that mean?”

“Our bloods have different metals in them.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s just how we evolved.”

“What’s ‘evolved’?”

His mother sighed. “Does everyone look the same on the outside?”

“No.”

“Well, everyone doesn’t look the same on the inside either.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older. Go back out and play.”

“I don’t want to go out. The kids told me I was weird.”

“Just ignore them. They don’t understand that people look different on the inside either.”

“No! I’m not going back out there!” 

“Then go play in your room. I’ve got things to do.”

They had only lived in that apartment a few months longer before they moved to a small house several miles to the north. Velekh had been glad to leave. Although the other children had never seemed to care about his pointed ears, things had changed after the day they discovered his blood was green. Jason still talked to him from time to time - he was curious about the differences between humans and Vulcans - but the other children either ignored him or taunted him and Jason continued to spend most of his time with them. Velekh grew to hate them. From then on, he had avoided going outside, where he knew they would be playing on the grass, as much as possible. On their last day at the apartment building, he noticed Christopher’s white sun hat laying in the grass. He picked it up and hid it among his things.


	15. Chapter 15

New Hollywood, Ivor Prime, Stardate 2266.218

From the apartment in the glass building in the small city on Ivor Prime, they moved to a small house in town to the north. The house had sliding glass doors at the back that opened onto sandy, shrubby ground. If other buildings hadn’t blocked the way, Velekh would have been able to see the ocean from there. But in between the house and the ocean were other houses and a large, glass shopping center. He didn’t attend school then: their constant moving didn’t allow for it. His mother created lessons for him; she was the organized one. His father disliked structure and believed in learning by observation and experience. His parents’ differing approaches to his education often led to disagreements between the two of them. He distinctly remembered his mother calmly sliding open the glass door and walking out along the shrub lined path that eventually led to the ocean after one such disagreement. She never got angry; he later wondered if this was a personality trait or a result of her Vulcan upbringing. Letting go of things deeply ingrained in childhood was difficult.

His father was more emotional. Though rarely angry, he was often impatient. Velekh was sure, however, that he would be angry if he found out about Christopher’s hat. The first time he left the new house to explore the neighborhood, he made sure it was well hidden under his shirt, tucked into his pants. It was unlikely any children he met would ever see his blood, he reasoned, but perhaps they know from his ears that his blood was green. He walked past a few houses before pulling it out and putting it on his head. 

The Hollywood Mall was the name of the shopping center between Velekh’s neighborhood the ocean. Its overly ambitious builders seemed not to have considered that there was already a glut of shopping centers sitting half empty in the newly established suburb of New Hollywood when they began construction. Though it had been open several years by the time Velekh moved to New Hollywood, the upper floor remain unoccupied. During the rainy season or when it became too hot in the dry season, children could always be found running around the top floor playing old Earth games like tag and duck duck goose. 

It had been on one such hot day in the dry season, a few weeks after they had moved to New Hollywood, that Velekh found himself inside the mall playing with some of the neighborhood children. As always, he was wearing the white sun hat that had once belonged to Christopher. The sun on Ivor Prime was very strong so sun hats and caps with large brims were common. The hat seemed to be working; the other children had accepted him.

They were playing the game called tag and Velekh was running from a thin, curly-haired boy named Rafael.

“I’m going to get your hat, Velekh!” He yelled.

“No!”

“Yes! I’m going to get it!”

“No!” Velekh held the hat to his head as he ran from Rafael. He ran down the stairs and out the entrance to the shopping center that faced his neighborhood. Rafael, unable to keep up with Velekh, had abandoned his chase at the top of the stairs though Velekh hadn’t noticed. He had been so terrified that Rafael would rip the hat off his head. Then everyone would know. He didn’t look back but continued running straight for his house. Out of breath, he stopped at the shrubs along the side of the house where he kept the hat hidden.

“Velekh, where did you get that hat?” His father emerged from behind the low concrete wall that projected from the side of the house. Velekh stared at him blankly for a moment. 

“I found it.”

“Where did you find it?”

“In the grass.”

“In the grass where?”

“At the apartment.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you found the hat before we moved? You know it probably belonged to someone. You should have left it there for them to find it.” Velekh did not reply. “Why didn’t you tell us about the hat?”

“I don’t know.”

“I haven’t seen it before. Where have you been keeping it?” When Velekh still did not answer he continued, “I’d rather you tell me but you know I will find out the truth anyway.” Velekh couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He knew he should try to tell part of the truth at least - maybe then his father would leave the rest alone. But he found that he could only stand with his mouth frozen open. He was overcome with embarrassment. “I won’t be angry. I just want to understand.” But Velekh wasn’t going to budge. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his father how embarrassed he was to be different. “Very well,” his father sighed. 

“You took the hat because you knew it belonged to one of the boys who has been unkind to you. You hate him and the other children for their unkindness.”

“Yes.” If he admitted this much, it might not be so bad. He would admit it was wrong to have taken the hat and his father would not discover the rest.

“Children can be cruel. They don’t always understand or accept differences. They will learn as they get older. You have acknowledged the hate you feel for them - now you must let it go. If the hate consumes you, you will only be hurting yourself, not them. Do you understand?”

“No.”

“Carrying around that hate is a burden, is it not?”

“I guess.” 

“You must tell yourself that their unkindness has nothing to do with you and you will not let it hurt you or make you unkind. This will seem difficult at first but will become easier with time. Each time it will be easier. Remember that.”

“Alright.” Velekh turned to move toward the house, hoping this was the end of the discussion. 

“Velekh, don’t let them make you feel embarrassed by who you are. Just as they shouldn’t be embarrassed if they were the only humans on a planet of Vulcans. The universe is infinitely diverse and humans and Vulcans are just a small part of it. Kol-Ut-Shan, infinite diversity in infinite combinations - that is something Vulcans embraced long ago.” 

“Then why don’t we go to Vulcan?” Prior to that day, Vulcan had been somewhat of an abstract concept to Velekh - he knew it was the place from which his parents came but it meant nothing more to him than that. It was no different for his playmates - many of their parents came from Earth, a place they had never been.  
“I can never go back to Vulcan. Things are different there than here. And different, also, from all of the places we have lived. On Vulcan, people are not free to express their emotions. They can’t laugh or cry or smile. To do so is considered embarrassing.” 

“People don’t laugh or smile or cry there?” Velekh could not imagine a place where people did not laugh or smile or cry. 

“No.”

“So what do they do?” 

“They repress their emotions, pretend like they don’t exist.”

“Why do they do that?”

“They think it’s better that way. At one time there were many wars on Vulcan. Many people died. So Vulcans came to believe that emotions like hate were the cause of wars. They thought if people didn’t let themselves feel emotions, they would have no reason for wars.”

“And they don’t have wars now?”

“No, not for thousands of years.”

“So maybe they were right.”

“The problem is that all beings have emotions, whether we want to or not. We are not machines. We can’t deny something that exists - if we do, we will suffer in the end. Instead, we have to try to learn from our emotions. I can see that you do not understand this. But you have already learned something from your feelings of hate towards the children who were unkind to you. Was hating them a good feeling?”

“No.”

“So, you see, you have learned that hate is not a good feeling. Now you must learn to let it go so this bad feeling doesn’t stay inside you.”

Velekh was anxious to have the conversation steered away from the topic of his emotions. He did not think it possible that he would ever not hate Christopher and the other children. “So they won’t let us go to Vulcan because we might laugh or cry or smile?”

“Something like that.”

“So we can never go there?”

“No, but we wouldn’t be happy there anyway, we wouldn’t be free. It’s better to be here. Now, give me the hat. It isn’t right to keep what doesn’t belong to us.”

The following day, Velekh was unsure what to do. He didn’t want to leave the house without the hat. He was staring out the sliding glass doors when his father approached him.

“You can’t hide forever.”

“Maybe I can.” His father laughed.

“Tell me, what is the worst that could happen if you go out now and the other children see you without the hat?”

“They tell me I’m weird and they won’t play with me.”

“If you try to hide in the house all the time, you won’t have anyone to play with either.” 

Velekh could not be persuaded to go outside - the thought of going out without a hat on was unbearable. It would be like going out with no clothes on at all. For five days he spent hours reading everything he could about Vulcan and asking his parents an endless series of questions about it. When he sensed they were getting annoyed, he would go back to reading. By the third day he was tired of being inside all the time and yearned to go out, but was still unable to bring himself to do it.

On the sixth day, he was reading in his bedroom when he heard his mother speaking to someone, the voices too low to make out. 

“Velekh, there’s someone here to see you.” His mother pushed open his bedroom door.

“Who?”

“Your friend Rafael.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants to know if you can come and out and play.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. Rafael knows you are Vulcan. He has seen me and your father.”

“Really?

“Yes. Did you imagine the other children didn’t know where you lived and had never seen us before?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they will know we have green blood now.” His mother smiled. 

“If they don’t, you can explain it to them. Remember what I told you about copper and iron?”

“Yes. I read about it too.”

“Go on out. It’s rude to keep someone waiting.”

Looking back, Losha could laugh at how ridiculous it had been that he had somehow imagined the other children wouldn’t know he was Vulcan. He didn’t even have a human name. It had not been easy to leave the house without the hat on - he remembered feeling completely exposed. Rafael, however, did not seem to notice his ears or make any connection between having pointed ears and green blood. 

“Your hair is kind of curly but not as curly as mine.” He said as they walked down the street together. I never noticed because you always had a hat on before.”


	16. Chapter 16

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.248

Losha’s first night in sick bay after regaining consciousness was a restless one. His body was tired but he couldn’t calm his mind. The previous day had gone by in a blur with all the visitors and the frequent checks from Dr. Naik, Ensign Santos, and Crewman Janda. He supposed he had gotten so much attention from them since he was their only patient. When they had finally left him for the night and Naalem had returned to his quarters on the ship, worry began to set in. Despite the reassurance from Amanda that Ambassador Sarek had recommended his application be approved, he was anxious. He was used to dealing with uncertainty, though, and was able to push the worst thoughts out of his mind. He would not let himself consider the possibility that the blindness was permanent. Instead, he thought of his bed in his quarters on the ship and back at his apartment in Undaa. The noises in the sick bay were irritating and the idea that at any moment, a member of the medical staff could walk in made him uncomfortable. He longed to be alone in a familiar place.

He was relieved, however, when Dr. Naik came in the following morning. She changed his bandages and advised him that once they were removed in a day or two he could probably return to his ship. But, of course, there would be no one there to assist him besides Naalem. He said nothing but determined that he would leave the sick bay as soon as possible and would somehow manage. He was expecting Naalem to be down shortly but Dr. Naik advised him that following breakfast, Dr. Dvir wished to speak with him alone. What could Dr. Dvir have to say to him that Dr. Naik could not? Was it news about his application? It seemed rather quick, even for people as efficient as Vulcans. Not long after breakfast, Dr. Dvir arrived and after first speaking with Dr. Naik for a few moments, approached his bed.

“Do you prefer to speak in Standard or Vulkhansu?” She asked after announcing her presence and greeting him.

“Standard.” He did not think of Vulkhansu as his language, but rather his parents’ language. It had been his first language and he could speak it without accent, but he struggled with vocabulary. Most of his education had been in Standard and later, Haka. The last time he had had an actual conversation in Vulkansu had been six years ago and even then, certain words had eluded him. He had long ago lost interest in Vulcan history and culture and now had little need of the language. Naalem had been curious about it, however, and Losha had taught him some basic words and phrases but he would have preferred not to hear Vulkhansu at all. There was too much sadness tied up in the memories of his mother’s voice. 

“We shall speak in Standard then,” Dvir replied. “When I first examined you following the explosion, my scans revealed significant telepathic damage. I was able to determine that the damage was not caused by your recent head injury but most likely occurred at least ten or more Standard years ago. Your nephew has informed me that you are aware of the damage.” She’d gotten straight to her point without any preliminaries. Typical Vulcan, Losha thought. Even his parents had never mastered the art of easing into a conversation. He had often found their bluntness shocking. On the other hand, human and Seenan fondness for dancing around the truth could sometimes be tiring. 

“Yes.” 

“He also informed me that you believe the damage to be a result of amphetamine use?” He hadn’t hidden his past from Naalem; he thought it was better to be open about it so that Naalem was not ignorant of the consequences of drug use and given that Joa was in prison for a crime that occurred while he’d been using drugs, there was really no hiding it anyway. Still, he hadn’t imagined Naalem would so easily relay this information to a stranger. She was a doctor, he reminded himself, and since she already knew, there was no point in holding back further information.

“Yes, I assume that’s what it was. It could be from other drugs, though. I assumed it was from sur because it’s known to cause memory loss.”

“Yes, in Seenans it is known to cause memory loss. There is no data available pertaining to Vulcans. You are also suffering from memory loss?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t say it’s significant though. I just have trouble remembering certain conversations or details about things that other people seem to remember.”

“You mentioned other substances. Can you provide me with a list of other substances you have ingested?”

“You need this information for the surgery?” He did not feel entirely comfortable having this conversation; he did not want to feel judged.

“Not for the surgery to restore your vision. However, I would like to consult with colleagues on Vulcan who can determine whether it is possible to repair any of the telepathic damage.” Losha had never considered the possibility that the telepathic damage could be repaired. Memory loss in sur users was irreversible but Vulcan medical knowledge was surely superior to Seenan. He had accepted the memory loss along with the loss of most of his telepathic abilities years ago. In some ways, he felt he was better off without them. He would like to be able to retain memories better - he was unable to forget his most painful memories anyway - but constantly sensing things from others had been somewhat of a burden for him when he was younger. He had become used to living without that sense. As he had not replied, Dvir continued, “Your nephew thought that you might have some reservations about repairing the damage.”

“Yes, I did tell him that sensing other people’s feelings was sometimes a burden. I’ve never even considered the fact that it could be repaired.”

“You were able to sense the feelings of others?”

“Yes?” Dvir almost sounded surprised. 

“Through touch?”

“No, though if I touched someone the intensity was much stronger.”

“That is atypical.”

“Really? My father could read my mind without touching me. I was never able to do that though.”

“That is also atypical. In fact, it is extremely rare.”

“Yes, my mother couldn’t do that, though I always assumed she could sense people the way I did. I thought that was normal.” But I never asked her, he thought. Now he began to wonder.

“It is not abnormal, only atypical. I would estimate that approximately four percent of Vulcans have this ability. You were not able to block out the emotions of others?”

“To some degree. But sometimes they were just too strong.”

“Fascinating. That is indeed quite rare, though perhaps continued practice of proper shielding techniques could be of assistance in that regard. There are specialists in the field of telepathy who may be able to assist. Now that you are conscious, I would like to take some more scans as well as obtain additional information from you. Then I shall consult with specialists on Vulcan. Do you wish me to proceed?”

Losha hesitated. He didn’t really like the idea of anyone getting into his head but, then again, they would actually be in his head if underwent brain surgery. It wasn’t the same thing, of course, but if he was going to have to travel to Vulcan and see doctors anyway, perhaps it was worth looking into. He didn’t have to agree to anything. Still, the idea of suddenly sensing all those things again made him somewhat anxious. It had taken a long time for him to put his insecurities and unhappiness behind him and he didn’t know that he could handle them resurfacing. He may be tempted to turn to sur and kenal if they did. 

“You are uncertain?”

“Maybe I need some time to think about it.”

“Of course.” She paused before continuing in a voice that Losha could hear was tinged with hesitation. “May I ask whether you have a bondmate or spouse?”

“No. Why?”

“Have you considered the possibility that the damage could present difficulties for you should you wish to take a mate?”

“That’s not an issue.”

“Forgive my intrusion on your privacy. The scans indicated damage that could potentially be significant enough to impair your ability to initiate a telepathic bond.”

“Maybe it is. I don’t know. But I don’t have any plans to marry a Vulcan.” 

“It would not be an issue should you choose to bond with another Vulcan. A non-telepath, however, would be incapable of initiating a bond with you.”

“Well, I don’t plan on ever getting married. Even if I did, I don’t know that I’d want to form a telepathic bond with anyone. I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Yes, however…” Her voice was tense. “I assume you are familiar with certain aspects of Vulcan biology?”

“Yes,” he almost laughed, now that he knew what she was getting at. “You mean the pon farr?” Though Vulcans claim to embrace logic completely, they are not logical when it comes embracing their own biology, his father had told him. The whole taboo surrounding the topic seemed not only illogical but also detrimental to the wellbeing of individuals as well as society as a whole. 

“It is believed that a telepathic bond may be necessary to an individual’s survival during this time.” He noticed that she did not actually answer his question. 

“It is believed? But not known for certain, I imagine? From what I understand very little research has been done on it.”

“That is true,” Dvir admitted quietly. 

“My father said he didn’t experience it as a madness, the way Vulcans describe it, because he doesn’t suppress his emotions. My mother died when I was ten and my father never had another partner after that. Yet he’s alive. He’s lived without a telepathic bond for over twenty years.”

“Of course I do not know his personal situation but your father seems to be a very gifted telepath. Individuals with strong telepathic abilities have been known to survive the pon farr using meditation techniques. But it is extremely rare. It is also not recommended as the likelihood for success is not high. Perhaps you may want to speak with your father. It may help you to make a more informed decision.”

“That’s not really possible but go ahead with the scans. I want to know more.” 

As Dr. Dvir proceeded, he began to consider what it would be like to once again be able to sense people’s emotions, to once again touch someone’s mind. He’d only done it once before...


	17. Chapter 17

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2275.274

Vensar, like most of the girls and women Losha would find himself involved with, was older. Not that she was old - she was only eighteen when she and Losha first met in the Intermediate Level Ursai class at Undaa City University. He was sixteen. Losha had become interested in Ursai after hearing stories from Kadren about his homeland. Ursai was the second largest state on Senes - nearly as large as Hakar in area though the population was about twenty percent smaller due to the fact that much of the country lay in extremely cold regions. Ursai and Hakar did not border each other and had never officially been at war though there was longstanding hostility between them. Unofficially, both Hakar and Ursai had supported smaller states that were hostile towards the other of the two large states. But that had changed six years ago when the Hakaran Civil War had begun and Hakar no longer had the resources to supply other states in their ongoing hostilities with Ursai. Losha had often imagined visiting Penalyaf, the city Orat and Kadren came from. It was famous for its museums, frozen rivers, and snow. He had seen a dusting of snow once when he lived on Earth but he only knew this from his parents - they had left Earth when he was four and he had little memory of it. 

Vensar was also interested in Ursai culture, though for a different reason. As a student of economics, knowing the planet’s second most widely spoken language would be a career asset - if the war ever ended and she was able to pursue a career. Losha had noticed Vensar the first day he saw her in class. It wasn’t her appearance that he first noticed - nothing about her stood out in particular - but her accent. She was from the Eastern part of Hakar and the Haka spoken there was softer and more fluid than that which was spoken in Undaa and its surrounding region. Just listening to her voice was pleasant - he paid close attention to her whenever she spoke. Soon he realized that she was intelligent and witty. They frequently chatted after class but where they got to know each other best was at the stalta.

Staltas were an old tradition in Hakar. A stalta was a table in a tavern, cafe, or restaurant that was designated for discussion of a certain topic or theme. There were staltas for everything imaginable - sports, politics, culture, hobbies, and professions. Staltas ranged from tiny round tables for four to large, long benches that could accommodate twenty or more. Some establishments had appointed times for certain staltas, others had tables reserved permanently for specific staltas so patrons could sit at them at any time and strike up a conversation with a like-minded individual. 

Such was the case with the Ursai stalta at Menezkes, a tavern near the university. The permanent status of the Ursai stalta was owing to the large number of Ursai ex-patriots living in Undaa. Students of Ursai also liked to attend so they could practice their language skills with native speakers. A number of students from Losha’s class, including Vensar, were regulars at the Ursai stalta. One evening, several months after they’d met and become friends, Losha and Vensar were walking from class to the stalta, lagging behind the some of their classmates.

“Can you believe Barhaa?” She turned to him, a look of disapproval on her face.

“He’s hopelessly in love,” Losha offered. Barhaa was annoying but Losha understood what it was to be hopelessly in love with someone. He was just better at hiding it than Barhaa. 

“So is every boy in our class. Why couldn’t our teacher be a fat, old man? Then only people who were really interested in Ursai would sign up.”

“I’d much prefer Ehenzar to a fat, old man.” He grinned.

“Not you too!” Vensar gave him a look of disbelief.

“Me too what?” He feigned ignorance.

“You think you’re in love with her too?”

“Her? No. But she is nice to look at.” At that, Vensar gave him a disapproving look and smacked him lightly on the arm.

“So if not her then who?” she asked.

“Who what?” 

“You said, Her? No. As if there is another her.”

“Why are you so interested?” he teased. This flirtation between them was becoming increasingly common and he enjoyed it, though he didn’t think he would ever be able to reveal his feelings for her. He knew she liked him and enjoyed his company, but she had someone, a boy her own age back home in Nisaya. She rarely spoke of him, though, and that had given Losha hope. Still, even if this other boy weren’t in the way, he knew it was unlikely she would be interested in him. He was too young. Even this boy in Nisaya seemed too young for her - he imagined her with an older man, someone who was mature, responsible.

“You’re my friend. That’s why.” Losha pondered how he could change the subject but before he had a chance, she continued, “You can tell me. Is it Karlaas?”

“No.”

“Jaanaat?”

“No.”

“Someone I don’t know?”

“No.”

“No I don’t know her or no I do know her?”

“You know her.”

“Belesen?”

“No.”

“It can’t be Halaj!” Losha wasn’t sure what came over him but he suddenly felt confident, even bold. He was becoming more and more confident as he got older but where girls were concerned, he still felt somewhat uncomfortable and shy. 

“No, it’s not Halaj. It’s you.” He smiled at her. She froze, a look of surprise on her face, which then turned to puzzlement. She said nothing for a moment but then returned his smile.

“Are you teasing me?” The smile faded from Losha’s face, replaced by seriousness.

“No.”

“I really wasn’t expecting that. I thought that if there was anyone, it would be Karlaas. She’s very pretty.”

“Yes, she’s pretty. And nice. I like her. But she isn’t you.” The more he said, the easier it became. They were looking in each other’s eyes and it didn’t seem anywhere near as awkward as he’d imagined. Perhaps he was ruining their friendship but he wasn’t thinking about that at that moment. He only felt relieved to have finally admitted his feelings to her. Vensar wasn’t saying anything, though, and he began to feel nervous, so nervous that he was unable to sense anything from her at all. But then she reached out and took his hand.

“Come on! Let’s go to the stalta. Everyone will be wondering where we are.” And so they proceeded hand in hand to the stalta. With her hand touching his, Losha perceived affection from Vensar, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. It could be simply the affection one felt for a friend. 

At the stalta, his thoughts were only of Vensar. She sat across from him and he made a great effort to talk to other people but it was futile. He found himself having to ask those he was speaking with to repeat themselves because he wasn’t really listening. Fortunately for him, they assumed this was because he wasn’t fluent in Ursai. It was a great relief, then, when the stalta began to break up a few hours later. He needed to talk to Vensar alone.

They left the stalta together and this time, Losha took Vensar’s hand. She did not object. They walked in silence, hand in hand, until they neared Vensar’s dormitory. It was dark now. Vensar stopped before they reached the lights coming from the building. She turned towards him and before he knew what was happening, she was kissing him. He was surprised for a moment but began to return the kiss. They stood like that for several minutes. He didn’t want to stop - it seemed too good to be true - so he pulled her tightly to him. Finally, she pulled away.

“Do you know how much I wanted to do that when I was sitting across from you at the stalta?” A smile spread across his face. “I don’t want you to leave but I really have a lot to do tonight.” She sighed.

“I understand.” He leaned in and kissed her again.

“Well, you’d better go catch your tram or else we’ll be here all night and I’ll never get anything done,” she said, pulling away again.

“See you on Nahaat?”

“Yes, I’ll see you Nahaat.” He smiled and turned towards the tram stop across the street. Nahaat was two days from now - the day of their next class together - and it could not come soon enough.


	18. Chapter 18

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2275.274

Losha arrived back at his public housing unit that night feeling elated. He barely remembered the tram ride. In fact, he had nearly forgotten to get off at the right stop to change trams and then again when he arrived at the stop near his unit. The unit was an older building in the city center. It had been designed to house one person per room but with the number of people flooding into the city from the war zones, public housing was in short supply so the rooms were now double occupancy. Each of the six floors contained twenty rooms, with a shower room at one end, a toilet room at another, and a tiny galley kitchen in the middle. As there was no room in the kitchen, tables for two or four people lined the hallways, making it difficult to pass at times. No matter the hour, there was always someone sitting at one or more of the tables, eating, drinking, or socializing. As he walked down the hallway on the fourth floor towards his room, residents sitting at the tables and standing in conversation greeted him. He only managed a head nod in reply. His mind was elsewhere.

When he reached his room, he found Joa and Malar, Malar sitting on Losha’s bed and Joa on his own. The narrow room had a bed on each side but no room for a chair. Though Malar did not live in the unit, she spent a great deal of time there. Her unit was further from the city center and she preferred to be in the midst of city life. She also did not care much for her roommate, whom she described as self-centered and pretentious. One might say the same of Malar if one didn’t know her as Losha did. Malar cared for few people and few dared to cross her but she was fiercely loyal to the few friends she had, namely Joa and Losha. 

“What happened to you?” Losha was shaken from his reverie by Malar’s frank voice. He gave her a puzzled looked. “You look happy. Too happy,” she said as she brought drink up to her mouth.

“Oh,” he said sitting down beside her.

“So why the look? What happened?”

“Vensar kissed me.”

“I see. That explains the look. So what happened?”

“I told her I liked her and on the way home from the stalta, she kissed me.”

“And that was it?”

“Yes. She had a lot of work tonight. She said she didn’t want me to go though.” He looked wistfully out the window, which faced the general direction of Malar’s dormitory.

“What about her boyfriend?” Joa asked.

“I didn’t ask. I hope they broke up.”

“I know you’re not going to listen to me anyway, Losha, but be careful. I don’t think I need to remind you of Kreseen.”

Kreseen had been the first girl to show any interest in Losha, aside from neighborhood girls who had tried to bestow innocent kisses on him when he was very young and girls still frightened him. Kreseen had been a classmate, someone he knew only casually, but she had been curious and he became interested in her because she was interested in him. They had had little in common but, being lonely and believing she may be the only girl who would ever be interested in him, Losha had convinced himself he was in love. It hadn’t lasted long, not even a quarter of a year, which on Senes was three hundred and five days. Her curiosity apparently sated, Kreseen had abruptly ended their relationship and then avoided him altogether. 

At first he had felt heartbroken and angry that she had used him in such a manner but eventually he realized that as much as she had been using him, he had also been using her. He wouldn’t have thought twice about her had she not shown interest in him. She had been curious about aliens and he had been curious about girls. He no longer thought of her except with a twinge of annoyance.

“You’re right. I’m not going to listen to you. Even though I should.” He smiled. Malar had become the sister he never had - the wiser, and until recently, taller, older sister. He now stood several centimeters over her but he knew she’d always think of him as the little brother who needed protecting. 

“When are you going to see her again?” Joa asked.

“Nahaat.”

“Why not tomorrow?”

“We don’t have a class tomorrow. I don’t know what her plans are. I can wait two days.”

“Well, Malar’s got something to hold you over.” Losha turned to Malar, who pulled a small, clear bag out of her carry bag and held it out to him. It was sur.

“Where did you get it?” Though some people made sur at home, none of the three of them had the time nor inclination to go looking for the plant or to learn to prepare it, so they usually only managed to get a bit here and there from friends or other residents of the housing unit. To obtain this much, one would have to trade a good amount of credit chips, food, or other goods.

“Some rich guy I met at Hemai.” Hemai was a cafe that Malar frequented due to its wealthy clientele. Young, beautiful, and confident, she never had trouble finding someone there who was willing to buy her a drink, a meal, or more. 

Losha stuck his index finger in his mouth, then into the bag, and brought his finger, now covered with the substance, to his nose. He inhaled and passed the bag to Joa.

“Is this someone you plan to see again?” Joa asked as he dipped his finger in the bag.

“Tomorrow night.”

“So he’s a nice guy then?” Joa held his finger under nose.

“Yes, he’s nice.” She grinned. “Nice and rich.” 

“You know what I mean.”

“I hardly know him. But yes, he seems nice.” Joa tossed the bag back to Malar, who took some for herself. The bag went around several more times before Malar sealed it and returned it to her carry bag. It was the most sur Losha had ever had at once. Two sniffs was enough to allow him to skip two or three meals. After tonight, he could probably go several days without eating. Then he wouldn’t have to waste time standing in line at the food distribution center. Or, if he chose, he could stand in line anyway and later trade the food for something else or save non-perishable items for later. That was probably best. He hated the lines but he should be prepared in case there was a shortage of something later.

In addition to being an appetite suppressant, sur was a stimulant. The small amounts he had consumed before had made him feel alert, perhaps a little excited. This time, however, he felt happiness. True, the feeling had started with the kiss earlier that evening but the drug made it more intense. It was a happiness different from any he had experienced. It was the happiness of not caring - not caring that his mother was dead, that his father had virtually abandoned him, and that he was stuck alone on a planet with a war that had no end in sight. He had once been desperate to see his father again - now it didn’t matter. 

He had also often agonized over the fact that he had nothing to remember his parents by - now that seemed trivial. What was it his father had told him Vulcans believed? Attachment to material objects is illogical. Maybe they were right about that. And maybe they were right about emotions. Who wanted to feel sadness, anger, and despair when they could feel feel this happiness of not caring? Ah, but this happiness was an emotion too and he supposed they didn’t approve of that. No wonder his parents had left Vulcan. Vulcans probably didn’t approve of attachment to people either. Yet if it hadn’t been for Kadren, Malar, and Joa, he’d have had no reason to live. And now there was Vensar. If he’d only known sooner that sur had this kind of power. He leaned back against the wall, content. He was hooked.


	19. Chapter 19

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2275.275

Losha awoke the next morning feeling a vague, unexplained sadness. Perhaps it was because he had been thinking of his parents the night before. Though thoughts of them came to him less often now than when he was younger, they were always there, waiting to surface. There was an unbearable sadness and agony at the memory of his mother; of his father, a less intensive sadness mixed with feelings of abandonment and anger. 

He brushed the feelings aside, thinking of Vensar and what had transpired between them the previous evening. He paid little attention in his classes that day, unable to think of anything but seeing her the following day. As Malar was out with her rich friend that evening, he and Joa spent the night in their unit without her. The noise from the conversations in the hallway always made it difficult to concentrate, and with thoughts of Vensar on his mind, he gave up studying altogether and went to join one of the conversations. 

He had no idea what took place in his mathematics class the following day, such was his anticipation of seeing Vensar. Though he got to Ursai class early in order to speak with her first, they only had a few minutes to talk before the instructor arrived. Afterwards, the two of them lagged behind in the hallway again.

“Shall we go to the stalta?” He asked.

“Do you really want to go?”

“No,” he replied truthfully. He only wanted to be alone with her.

“Me neither. We can go to my dormitory.” She looked at him hesitantly.

“Alright.” He smiled and took her hand. “But won’t everyone wonder where we are?”

“Who cares?” She smiled.

Vensar’s dormitory was a few streets away. He had walked past it many times, had stopped outside it to talk with Vensar and other students who lived there, but this was the first time he’d been inside. It was a striking contrast to his public housing unit. To the left of the main entryway there was a large, bright lounge with about ten small tables where students sat talking and studying. 

He followed Vensar past the lounge to a stairway at the back. The stairs were covered in a notched rubber-like material for traction. Later, when he would think of Vensar, he would remember the smell the material emitted. Not pleasant or unpleasant, just a distinct, strong smell. When they reached the third floor, she pushed the exit door open and he followed her down an immaculately clean hallway, so unlike the crowded, cluttered ones in his unit. They passed a kitchen, this one large enough to accommodate a table for six, before Vensar stopped at one of the doorways and entered a code. Her room was about the same size as the one he shared with Joa, but there was only one bed, leaving enough room for a desk and chair. There was also small bathroom attached.

“What?” Vensar asked, noticing him examining the room.

“Your room is nice.” It was a simple room but so pleasant compared to the rooms in the shelters and public housing units he had been living in for the past five years.

“It’s like all the others. Nothing special.” Vensar knew he lived in a public housing unit but she had probably never been in one and had no concept of what they were like. He said nothing, slightly embarrassed at the thought of his living situation. Instead, he took her hands in his and leaned in to kiss her. They stood there kissing for several minutes before he felt Vensar’s hand slide up under his shirt. He slid a tentative hand under her shirt as well. Soon they began undressing each other. 

“Have you done this before?” She asked as they moved to her bed.

“Yes. Have you?”

“Yes. You know, I have a boyfriend back home in Nisaya.” Losha froze. He’d all but forgotten about Vensar’s boyfriend, assuming they were no longer together. “I’ve been wanting to break it off with him but I haven’t been home since the summer and I want to do it in person.” Losha wasn’t sure how to respond. “Does it bother you?”

“Yes, a bit,” he sighed. 

“We’ve been together since we were thirteen. I don’t feel right just calling him up and ending it. He’s a good person. And I’m very close to his mother.”

“Then why do you want to break up with him?”

“I thought I was in love with him when I was thirteen. But we are different people now, we’ve grown up. I don’t think of him in that way anymore. He’s like a friend to me now.”

“And I’m more than a friend?”

“Of course. Why do you think you’re here with me now?” She stroked his hand and he immediately felt affection from her. He’d felt it all along but it was stronger when she touched his hand like this. He pushed any thought of her boyfriend aside and kissed her. It was different this time than it had been with Kreseen. There had been little emotion the times he had been with her, just awkward, physical acts. With Vensar, it felt tender. Tender. That was the emotion he would always associate with Vensar, an elusive emotion that he had yet to feel with another woman. Later, when they lay facing each other in the bed, he felt a very strong emotion from her.

“You are happy.” 

“Yes. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I mean, I can sense it very strongly from you now.”

“I wish I knew what that was like. To be able to sense emotions from people everywhere.”

“Not everywhere and not all emotions. I don’t know if I can explain it well. You have to pay attention to them. If you don’t, it’s kind of like when you’re in class and you’re thinking of something else. You hear the words but they don’t sink in.”

“That never happens to me,” she teased. “It’s not distracting?”

“Sometimes. A strong emotion can push itself into my thoughts even if I’m not paying attention. If a lot of people are having the same feeling, especially a bad one, it’s difficult to ignore.”

“When would a lot of people be having the same feeling?”

“Sadness. There is a lot of sadness in my building.”

“I didn’t think about that. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Forgive me.” She laid a hand on his cheek.

“There is nothing to forgive.” He looked at her intently. “I can show you a little bit what it’s like.” He reached up and touched her cheek, concentrating. A look of surprise mixed with curiosity crossed her face.

“You are happy too.”

“Yes.”

“So this is what it’s like?”

“Not exactly the same. I am letting you feel my happiness. But now, I’m not.” He ceased projecting the feeling to her.

“It seems unfair. You can sense my emotions but I can’t sense yours unless you let me. And how do I know you aren’t lying about them?” She grinned.

“We can share thoughts, if you like.”

“Share thoughts?”

“Yes, it is called the kash-nohv, the sharing of two minds.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“How does it work?”

“I can do it through touch. But it is very personal,” he said, sliding his hand from her cheek and running it through her hair. “I don’t think it’s the right time yet but sometime...if you want to.”

“I think sometime I will say yes.” Losha slid his hand from her hair and down her body to her hip, across the plain of her stomach. He felt a slightly rumbling.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

“A little bit.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“The cafeteria won’t be open for dinner for a while. And the food there is terrible anyway.”

“You don’t have anything here you can eat?”

“Are you hungry too?”

“A little.” The truth was, he’d become very hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d taken the sur nearly two days ago - he hadn’t felt the need to. Whether it was Vensar making him think of it or their earlier physical activity, he suddenly realized how hungry he was. 

“Losha...” Vensar hesitated.

“What?” He continued to run his hand slowly over her stomach and hip and back again. 

“Have you ever tried sur? So you aren’t so hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Shall we have some now?”

“If you want.” She got up and removed a small container from the wardrobe opposite the bed.


	20. Chapter 20

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2275.337

For the first time since his mother’s death, Losha felt a happiness that lasted longer than a passing moment. He spent as much time with Vensar as he felt he could without making it seem that he was obsessed. He could not get rid of the feeling that although she was in no way like Kreseen, she also might grow tired of him when the novelty of his alienness worn off. Their class schedules kept them apart a significant amount of time; had it not been for that, he feared he would be unable to stop himself from seeking out her company more often. 

They continued to go to the Ursai staltas and afterwards, they would usually return to Vensar’s room, unless she had too much work to do. Even then, they would sometimes sit in the lounge together, reading and studying. Besides Ursai, Losha was taking courses in mathematics, computer science, and communications. Unlike Vensar, who had already chosen a designated field of study, he was uncertain what kind of career he wanted to pursue. The war was no closer to ending, but life went on. Before meeting her, he had considered working in space; he had wanted to get off Senes as soon as possible. But he didn’t know where he wanted to go. Joa and Malar had become family to him but he had never stopped feeling like he didn’t really belong. And after six years in the same place, he felt restless. He had never been in one place this long and it felt strange to him, as if the time in which he was supposed to be here had long since past. Still, he had no idea where he would go and wherever he went, he would not belong. Since his relationship with Vensar had changed, however, he had stopped thinking about the future and leaving Senes. He only thought about their time together in the present.

One day he would never cease to think about was the sixty-third day after their first kiss. Class had ended and he assumed they would go to the stalta along with the other students as usual. This time, Vensar hung back from the others.

“Losha, I don’t want to go today.” She seemed pensive and he felt hesitancy from her.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Well, not wrong exactly. Let’s go back to my room.” He followed her back to the room that he now spent more time in than his own.

“Remember you told me there was a way for us to share our thoughts?” She asked, sitting on the bed. 

“Yes.” He down next to her, a questioning look on his face.

“Can we do that now?”

“You really want to?” It was something he had thought about from time to time but had been hesitant to bring up again. He longed to be closer to her in this way but he didn’t want to push her. 

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Her eyes looked determined.

“I need to touch your face. Like this.” He positioned the fingers of his right hand on the left side of her face. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Are you?” She teased.

“Yes.” He closed his eyes and concentrated. “My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts.”

It was so different with Vensar than it had been with his parents. He assumed that was partly because she was Seenan and partly because their relationship was not that of a parent and child. His father’s thoughts had been too chaotic and overwhelming for him to grasp. His mother’s had been less so but he had understood that they were controlled to a very great degree. Later he would understand that even after leaving the rigid disciplines of Vulcan behind, she had been unable to completely let go of them. Vensar’s mind was orderly - she was confident in her thoughts and beliefs - yet not rigidly disciplined. 

She was attracted to Losha because he was different but not because he was alien. She was used to interacting with all different kinds of people, including aliens, at her parents’ hotel in the resort city of Nisaya. In fact, she didn’t really view him as an alien at all, just as Losha. He found this vitally reassuring. He also felt her intense affection for him. She loved him and he loved her just as much. He would be happy to remain connected to her like this forever. But there was something troubling her.

“You want to go home for awhile” he said, pulling his hand away and searching her face.

“Yes.” The aunt of her boyfriend, Renaa, had been killed in a explosion two days earlier, along with her oldest daughter. The woman was a sister to Renaa’s mother, whom Vensar was very close to, and her daughter had been a classmate. She felt she should return to Nisaya immediately but neither her parents nor Renaa’s mother would not hear of it since it was much safer in Undaa. She had, however, made up her mind that she would go. She was overwhelmed with guilt that she was here in Undaa, relatively safe, spending time with Losha, when her boyfriend’s family was grieving. She also wanted to end the relationship with Renaa and though she thought it awful to do it at such a time, she hoped that she would discover that he too was ready to move on. 

“I understand.” He also understood that there was no point in trying to convince her not to go. She had made up her mind.

“That was…” Vensar trailed off. “To think that it’s normal for other species to know each other in a way that we Seenans never can.”

“But now you can know someone in that way.” 

“Yes. It made me happy. I’m so glad I met you. I can’t imagine not knowing you now.” 

“When are you going home?” He had to ask.

“I’d like to leave tomorrow. But first, I want to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Did you really believe I would think less of you if I saw where you lived?” He looked away from her. “Do you think I am the kind of person that thinks that matters?”

“No.” 

“No, I’m not that kind of person. And now you know for certain. So I would be happy to spend time with you at your unit and to meet your friends. If they are important to you, they must be good people. A lot of good people are living in bad situations now because of this war.” 

They stayed awake until late in the night discussing what they had learned from each other. Vensar had not until then understood the depth of Losha’s loneliness and feeling of not belonging; he had not realized that like himself, she also experienced a restlessness, one that had driven her from Nisaya. 

After she returned home the following day, Losha and Vensar continued to send messages and letters to each other every few days, even managing to speak on the phone twice. He wished it could have been more often but he didn’t have a personal communications device and the public one in the hallway of his unit was almost always in use. When they did talk, it was difficult to hear one another over the hallway noise, there was no privacy, and the conversations had to be brief as there was always someone waiting to use the device. When Vensar had been gone for nineteen days, she declared her intention to return shortly. He was elated. 

Three days after that phone conversation, he was walking from the tram stop to the university when he heard someone calling his name.

“Losha!” He turned to find Belesen, a classmate who frequented the Ursai stalta. Like Vensar, she was also from Nisaya and the two had been friends for several years. Typically easy going and cheerful, she seemed uncharacteristically serious. “Losha, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” He was not prepared for what came next.

“It’s Vensar. She died. She died yesterday morning. It’s terrible.” Belesen seemed shaken but he didn’t believe what she was saying. Wouldn’t he have known if Vensar had died? Wouldn’t he have felt it? But a mind meld was not a permanent connection...

“What?” was all he could manage.

“It was an overdose. An accidental overdose.”

“How do you know?”

“A friend in Nisaya called me this morning.”

“They’re sure?”

“Yes. It’s so terrible,” she repeated.

“I can’t believe it.” He didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing to say.

“I know,” she replied. “I’m...I’m not going to class today. I just came to find you. Give me your contact information and I’ll let you know when I find out about the funeral.” He exchanged information with Belesen before taking the tram back to his unit. He wouldn’t go to class that day either. 

He didn’t cry then, he only felt disbelief and numbness. He went back to his room and laid on the bed for several hours. He later had no memory of his thoughts during that time aside from looking out the window at sunset, the light nearly blinding him. Not long after, Joa returned and the two of them spent the night sniffing sur. Part of him hoped that it would kill him as it killed Vensar.


	21. Chapter 21

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.251

Losha hadn’t thought of Vensar in some time, but sitting in his quarters on the ship, still docked at Deep Space Four, there was little he could do but think. Dr. Naik had released him from sick bay yesterday, though he still had to return every eight hours to receive eye drops and a bandage change. She had said she wouldn’t normally release a patient in his condition so soon but knowing that he’d still be on the station, she’d offered him the choice of remaining in sick bay or returning to his quarters. She’d obviously picked up on the fact that he had not been particularly comfortable there. Still, he’d had to consider her offer for a moment before accepting. Returning to his quarters meant that the only person there to help him was Naalem, though the doctor had made it clear that should he need anything, he need only call sick bay and either she, Santos, or Janda would be happy to help. Even Dr. Dvir had offered to be of assistance. Though he disliked placing any responsibility on Naalem, the one thing he hated more than being dependent on others was being the center of attention. There was no avoiding dependence on others in his current condition and at least he could have some privacy in his quarters. 

Naalem had stuck by him since he’d returned to his room, but Losha had insisted that he go down to the station and occupy himself there for a few hours. Though he couldn’t tell from his voice or behavior, he knew the teenager must be restless and bored and he wanted some time to himself anyway. He’d tried listening to news on his PADD but found it didn’t interest him, so he’d moved on to books and then music but found those equally unappealing. So he lay on his bed, thinking of happier times.

Rationally, he knew that even if Vensar had not died, it was unlikely that their relationship would have lasted. He didn’t know if she had ever broken things off with her boyfriend and even if she had, that was no guarantee that things would have lasted between the two of them. They had been so young. Young love was intense but it often burnt out quickly. Perhaps they would have grown tired of each other or begun to have arguments. He would never know. And that was the problem - because she had died when their relationship had seemed perfect to him, nothing else could ever compare. A few years after Vensar’s death, his telepathic abilities began to get more and more muted until they became virtually non-existent. He would never again know someone the way he knew Vensar. 

So much had happened since then though, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone knowing all the things he’d done. He no longer felt shame over it, but few women would be understanding. They would be repulsed and he understood. At one time, he would have been repulsed himself. No relationship he’d had since Vensar had worked out. He knew it was partly due to his unrealistic expectations and partly because he hadn’t been completely honest with any of them, with one exception, and she had been repulsed. Some relationships had ended by mutual ambivalence and others with a great deal of anger. One thing about all of them was the same though - he had never been the one to end it. Even when he had lost interest in the woman or knew the relationship wasn’t working, he wouldn’t end it. It was worse for him to be alone. Or it had been. In the last year or two, he had finally begun to feel happy being alone. Perhaps not happy but not unhappy. He had accepted it.

As thoughts of Vensar filled his mind, he tried to push them aside. Dwelling on unpleasant memories would not improve his mood, but like Naalem, he found himself bored and restless. How awful it would be to be blind permanently. He tried to push that thought aside too. There was no use getting upset about something that was only a possibility. His mind had been going back and forth between worrying and trying to convince himself not to worry when the door chimed.

“Come in,” he said in Haka, assuming it was Captain Jemel or one of the crew members. 

“Losha? It’s Dr. Naik. May I come in?”

“Yes, please come in.” Then, after he heard the door close behind her, “It can’t be time for another bandage change yet, can it?” He had last been to sick bay for a bandage change only a few hours ago. 

“No. Not for another five hours or so,” she replied. “I came to tell you that I received a message from Vulcan. About your application…” she trailed off. Normally the status of an application was strictly confidential and would only be sent directly to the applicant but Dr. Naik had submitted it on his behalf since he was unable to complete it himself. The doctor’s tone was neutral and he couldn’t determine from it whether it was good or bad news. There was only one way to find out.

“What did they say?”

“They denied the application. They didn’t say why but I’ve already spoken to Ambassador Sarek. He said he will request more information and see what he can do. Dr. Dvir is also making inquiries on your behalf with her colleagues on Vulcan. She’s hoping that some of them may be able to write letters on your behalf, letting the immigration service know that this is a special situation. I’m also going to do whatever I can.” Her words came out so quickly that Losha hardly had time to process them.

“Thank you for trying to help me. I’m not sure there is anything you can do when it comes to Vulcans, though.” Though the news wasn’t entirely unexpected, he found himself getting angry. The Vulcans didn’t care if he was blind. He should have realized that they wouldn’t pity him - pity was an emotion.

“I just can’t believe they’d deny you entry to Vulcan. I know they’re sticklers for rules but the whole purpose of this application is for special circumstances and if this isn’t a special circumstance, I don’t know what is.” He could hear the frustration in her voice. “But I will do whatever, I can, ok?” She was repeating herself, he thought, because she had nothing else to say. “Ambassador Sarek is a powerful man. I’m sure there’s something he can do.”

“Thank you, doctor.” He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted her to leave so he could be alone. Uncontrollable anger was rising inside him. It was an anger he hadn’t felt in a long time but that he’d once known so well that he’d given it a name - the monster. The monster inside me. He hadn’t seen the monster in a long time and he’d almost believed that it was gone. Almost. He should have known better, known that the monster had just been dormant. It would never go away altogether because it was a part of who he was. 

“I’d better go now. I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do. I’ll see you in a few hours, ok?”

“OK.” The moment the door closed behind her, he picked up a glass of water Naalem had left for him and threw it across the room.


	22. Chapter 22

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.251

Negotiations with Ambassador Tala had taken an unexpected delay. Ursai, Senes’ second largest state, was demanding to be a part of the talks, despite the fact that they had initially wanted nothing to do with the Federation. Their civil war having ended only slightly more than a decade ago, Hakans had no desire to see another one and so had acquiesced. Ambassadors Sarek and Tala now waited at Deep Space Four for the arrival of the Ursai ambassador. Sarek had been in his quarters acquainting himself with information about Ursai and its ambassador when he received a message from the Vulcan Immigration Service informing him that Losha’s application for permission to travel to Vulcan, which he had sponsored, had been declined. Shortly afterwards he had received a call from Dr. Naik, who had received a similar message.

“Why would they have denied it? It doesn’t seem right!” Amanda was agitated. 

“The application should have only been a formality. In such a case, where the applicant is traveling for the purpose of medical treatment, it typically would have been approved automatically.” He was just as curious as his wife but he also had his suspicions. The application should have been approved automatically, unless…

“Yes, especially with you sponsoring him. I just don’t understand. What reason could they have for preventing someone from having a surgery that could save their eyesight?”

“I will endeavor to find out. But, Amanda, consider the possibility that he is not who he claims to be. I do not want to ‘jump to conclusions’ as you would say, but stateless persons are typically granted special permission to travel to Vulcan unless there is sufficient reason to believe that they have ill intentions.”

“You think he has ill intentions?” A look of disbelief crossed her face.

“I don’t know. I am only saying that you should consider the possibility. I know you have become friendly with the boy but we know very little about this man. A Vulcan who does not control his emotions can be a dangerous person.” Unbidden, a memory of his oldest son crossed his mind. He quickly pushed it aside. He had no desire to re-open that old wound. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned this. I just didn’t want to see you...disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Sarek, it doesn’t matter if I’m disappointed. A man may be permanently blinded!”

“I know and that is why I intend to look into the matter further.”

“I know you’ll do what you can. You always do.” For a moment, a smile replaced the worry on her face. She stepped towards him, fingers extended. He touched his fingers to hers. He hadn’t suppressed the emotion deeply enough; he knew she could feel his hurt instantly. She reached up and stroked his face tenderly. There was nothing to say.

A flash and a ping on his PADD alerted him to an incoming message from the Vulcan Immigration Service the following afternoon. He quickly scanned the message and let out a soft sigh.

“Amanda,” he called softly to his wife, who was seated on the couch across the room. She looked up from her book and froze, clearly aware from his face that the news wasn’t good. Only she could read him that well.

“You heard from the Immigration Service?”

“Yes.” He fixed his gaze on her, trying to choose the right words. He had learned long ago that one could not deliver such information to a human as one would to a Vulcan, especially when that human was one’s wife.

“Just tell me. Was I right about him being a Romulan? I didn’t want to bring it up yesterday because I know you thought it was silly for me to think so.”

“I never said you were silly.”

“No, but you thought it. Your silly human wife with illogical suspicions.”

“You may be illogical at times but that is to be expected as you are human. But I have never thought of you as ‘silly.”

“Alright, just spit it out. Tell me the bad news.”

“He has numerous criminal convictions on Senes which he did not disclose on the application.”

“I see,” Amanda sighed heavily. “What has he done?”  
Sarek looked down at his PADD and read from the message. “Possession of an illegal substance, intent to distribute an illegal substance, robbery, assault, solicitation of prostitution.”

“You were right.” 

“It is unfortunate.” He looked up from the PADD, watching her closely. She would be upset.

“He seems so nice, and Naalem idolizes him. He’s done a very good job raising him, despite whatever he’s done. And he clearly has a job now. Surely those are old convictions?” 

“I have not reviewed the files. Regardless, failure to disclose criminal convictions is sufficient reason for an application to be rejected.”

“He would have been approved if he’d been honest?”

“I cannot say. Perhaps, if a sufficient amount of time has passed since the convictions...but it is illogical to speculate. The fact is that he was untruthful.”

“Still, it seems awful that he’ll be blind for the rest of his life. Even criminals are entitled to medical treatment on Vulcan. It’s not as if he’s a murderer.”

“No, but neither is he a Vulcan, Amanda. Not in the eyes of the law.”

“That’s not his fault. I don’t even understand how there can be such a thing as a stateless person. How can someone exist and yet belong nowhere? It’s almost like acting as if he doesn’t exist at all.”

“You are right in so much as the issue of stateless persons is one that no one takes ownership of and stateless persons therefore suffer the consequences.” Sarek sighed. It was a complicated issue indeed, one that was beyond his control. 

“There must be something we can do. Talk to him, Sarek. Maybe he can explain. There must be something you can do. I don’t think he’s a bad person. Call it illogical human intuition. I’m sure you’d rather call it gullibility but I can’t accept that nothing can be done to help him.” 

“It is disquieting that he was dishonest but I tend to agree with you - even someone with criminal convictions deserves needed medical treatment. He has already served his punishments for the crimes. I do not know that there is anything further I can do in light of his falsifications. However, I intend to speak with him.”

“Thank you, Sarek.” She smiled in relief. Yes, he would do what he could because this was important to his wife and she was right, it was the right thing to do.


	23. Chapter 23

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.251

Sarek chimed on the door outside of Losha’s quarters and waited. He was accustomed to dealing with all kinds of irrational species but he wasn’t sure what to anticipate when it came to a Vulcan who was not in control of his emotions and who had sufficient reason to be distressed and angry. The human expression Don’t shoot the messenger came to mind. The door opened and he was greeted by the teenage Seenan.

“Ambassador Sarek!” Naalem smiled widely. Sarek supposed the boy must be anticipating that he was here to deliver good news. It was a pity he could not.

“I was hoping I could speak with your uncle.”

“Come in,” he heard Losha’s voice from inside the room.

“Losha,” Sarek said, stepping into the room, “may I speak with you alone?” Losha, who was sitting on the lower bunk of the cabin’s bed, didn’t answer him directly; instead he directed the boy out of the room. For a moment after he left, there was silence. 

“There’s a chair here somewhere, if you want to sit down.” Sarek pulled the lone chair out from a small desk opposite the bunk.

“I am glad to see that you have recovered enough to have been released to your quarters.”

“Yeah.” It was the tone of someone resigned to his fate. It would be an unpleasant conversation.

“Dr. Naik has informed you that I requested more information about the denial of your application to travel to Vulcan, I presume?”

“Yes.” 

“I must ask you, do you believe there was any reason for the application to be rejected?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have no suspicions?”

“Suspicions? Yes, I suppose I have suspicions but I can’t be certain.”

“I contacted the Vulcan Immigration Service on your behalf yesterday and received a response today.”

“What did they say?” Losha gripped the side of the bunk, suddenly alert. 

“You indicated on your application that you had no criminal convictions. The immigration service found otherwise.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think…” He trailed off as he released his grip from the bunk. “I didn’t want to lie about them. I’m not a liar. Those were a long time ago. Most of the records are sealed because I was a minor. But I knew if I put them on the application, I would be denied anyway. I didn’t feel like I had a choice.” Sarek felt a strong pang of desperation. A Vulcan who was not in control of emotions could project powerful ones. He was not accustomed to this even from humans and other emotional species. 

“It is illogical to presume that your application would have been rejected.”

“No, it’s not. Do you really believe that they’d approve someone with criminal convictions? I know how Vulcans are.” Sarek was overcome with a feeling of extreme bitterness. He didn’t seem to be entirely capable of blocking this man’s emotions. 

“Do you? Even I can’t presume to know what the immigration service would have decided. You have a medical need to visit Vulcan, two doctors substantiated this, I gave my recommendation as well. However, my recommendation was given assuming you were forthright in the information you provided.” At that instant, Sarek felt regret envelop Losha’s bitterness. 

“I’m sorry. I appreciate that you’ve tried to help me. I didn’t mean to put you in this position. You have to understand, the only thing I was thinking about was getting this surgery so I can see again. I can’t be blind for the rest of my life. I can’t.” Sarek was hit with a wave of hopelessness and sorrow. “I did stupid things when I was young.” Losha continued. “I was stuck alone on a planet in the middle of a war. I became addicted to sur. I’m not ashamed of that; it happened to a lot of people on Senes during the war. When you become addicted to sur, you don’t care about anything else. You will do anything for it. But I never hurt anyone, I’m not a threat to anyone! Those were victimless crimes!”

“You would consider robbery and assault victimless crimes?” At this question, a surge of Losha’s anger came through.

“It’s not what you think! Not that you’ll believe me but I have nothing to lose so I’ll tell you. The assault was when I tried to stop a man from attacking my friend. She can tell you! And I didn’t rob anyone. That man... did you read in those files that I was convicted of prostitution? Yes, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to get sur. I was not in my right mind, it completely controlled me. That man, he was a customer. And he wouldn’t pay me. He got what he wanted and he then he wouldn’t pay for it!” The anger he felt from Losha intensified into a rage but then he began to breathe deeply and Sarek felt the rage subside somewhat. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like all these emotions. I’m not angry at you. There isn’t anything I won’t do to have that surgery. They can keep me under guard if they’re really worried. Not that I could commit any crimes anyway. I won’t even be able to find my way out of the room.” His voice was shaking and though the eye dressings prevented him from seeing any tears, Sarek knew he was crying. 

“It was not my wish to upset you,” he said calmly. 

“You haven’t upset me. This situation I’m in is upsetting.”

“Understandably. I have no wish to see a man condemned to blindness when it may be otherwise. I will do what I can. Understand, though, that there is only so much I can do.”

“I understand. I’m grateful, and not just for me. I am responsible for a child. I need to be able to take care of him. He has no one except me and his aunt.”

“I will be in touch.” Sarek turned to leave. This man’s emotions were more than he had been prepared for. He sensed Losha’s desire to be alone - he was embarrassed - and he needed to refocus so he could get working on his plan. For now, it was best to keep it to himself. There was no sense in giving false hopes to someone in such a precarious emotional state.

Negotiations resumed the following day when Ambassador Bareess of Ursai arrived, leaving Sarek little time to work on his proposal. It was unlikely the Vulcan Immigration Service would reverse their decision. In that case, he would do his best to arrange for Vulcan specialists to treat Losha somewhere else. It wasn’t simple - though he had no doubt he could find willing doctors with Dvir’s assistance, there was the matter of the facilities and equipment. No doubt some of the necessary equipment would need to be transported from Vulcan. Dvir was willing to help with this as well but she did not have the connections he did. Losha would have to wait, at least until the negotiations had ended.

He was on his way to his quarters during a break in the negotiations when he passed Naalem in the corridor, Losha holding on to his shoulder from behind. He was nearly startled to see the man’s face for the first time. The bandages had been removed, revealing eyes that were dull and unmoving. An involuntary shudder ran through him. It was slight, but a lapse in control nonetheless. 

“Ambassador Sarek!” The boy stopped and looked at him wistfully. “I’m glad we ran into you. We wanted to see you before we leave for Senes tonight.”

“You’re returning this evening?” He look away from Losha and down at the boy.

“Yes,” came the reply from Losha. “The cargo bin has been repaired and our customers are anxious for their cargo. The captain doesn’t want to delay here any longer.” Sarek turned to Losha involuntarily but he averted his gaze when he was met again with his unmoving eyes. 

“I’m sure my wife will wish to say goodbye before you leave. Shall I direct her to your quarters?”

“Yes, we’d like to say goodbye to her.”

“I have not forgotten what I have said to you. I will be in touch.”

“Thank you.” Sarek felt extreme anxiousness and fear, fear of leaving. Losha didn’t want to leave the station, likely fearing that once he did, there was no hope of his condition changing. Sarek almost wanted to give him a inkling of hope but understood it was for the best that he say nothing until he was certain his plan would work. 

“I wish you a safe journey.” He forced himself to look at Losha’s face, pushing aside the strange feeling that came over him when he looked at his eyes and the expression on his face.

“Thank you.” 

Six days after Losha’s departure from Deep Space Four, Sarek sat down to review some of the points discussed in the last negotiation session. Progress had been drastically slowed by the arrival of Ambassador Bareess. He and Ambassador Tala found little they could agree on in relation to their relationship with the Federation. He was most likely in store for several more weeks of discussions with them.

He was about to open the file containing the notes from the last session when his attention was diverted to another file at the bottom right of the screen, one that had been sitting on his computer for over a week. It was the file the Vulcan Immigration Service had sent him concerning Losha’s application. He had been intending to review it but the negotiations had taken precedence. He didn’t really have the time to review it now but for some reason he found himself reaching out to touch the image and open the file.

There was quite a bit of information to go through, files and reports in reverse chronological order. He scrolled through employment history and education records before reaching the criminal files. There was no new information - it was just as the immigration service had stated. He was about to close the file, intending to review its contents more thoroughly later, when he came across a jail release record. He froze, unable to take his eyes away from the screen. It could be a coincidence, he thought, and quickly he began scrolling back further and further until he found something that confirmed it. His hand shook as he touched the file again to close it. There was still a small possibility that things weren’t as they appeared. Small, but still a possibility. He would consult Dr. Naik. He would not allow himself to entertain any ideas until he did.


	24. Chapter 24

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2278.167

They had been stuck in the hallways of their housing unit for three days during the airstrikes. The basement of the building was not large enough to accommodate all its residents, so when drones or aircraft managed to get past Sheyhaar, they had to crowd into the hallways, where there were no windows. The war had been going on for over eight years now and though it appeared to be winding down, no one could be certain whether this was actually the case or it was just another temporary lull. There had been a few of those. Most of the time, though, it seemed as if it would go on forever. On the one side were the old government forces and on the other, a disorganized rebel coalition. The government had been a force for peace for many years but was highly corrupt, while the rebel coalition represented various factions with differing interests. Many Hakarans feared that if the rebels were victorious, peace would still not come as the rebels would be unable to resolve internal differences. The only thing uniting them was their desire to overthrow the existing government. 

Three days was the longest they had ever been stuck in the hallways. No previous strike had lasted more than half a day. Residents were restless and many, including Losha, had gone into their rooms despite the warnings. Leaving the building was out of the question but at least he could get away from the smells, chatter, and constant flow of people trying to move past him on their way to the kitchen, bathrooms, or public comm device. If his windows shattered and blew at him, so be it. He had been lying on his bed for an indefinite amount of time when the sirens began going off again. The noise in the hallway was preferable to the piercing sound of the sirens so he returned to the spot outside the door where he and Joa had spent the past three days.

“Should one of us get in line for the comm again?” Joa asked as Losha sat down on the blankets they had placed on the floor.

“Yes. You went last time. I’ll go.” He got up and headed to the end of the long line for the public comm, which was down the hallway past the kitchen. They had been trying to reach Malar, whose housing unit was in an area where some buildings were reported to have been destroyed. They had called her three times - she had a personal comm device - but she hadn’t answered. It wasn’t unusual for her not to answer but it was unusual to take so long to return a call. The line used for the public comm on their floor would, of course, have been busy but Malar was usually fairly quick to respond with a message. Joa and Losha had been expecting whoever was on the comm device to announce that a message had come in for them for some time. Messages had come in for numerous other residents but still they heard nothing from Malar.  
After the fourth unsuccessful attempt to reach her, Losha returned to his spot on the floor. The blankets did little to cushion him from the floor’s hardness and his body was stiff. The sur made it somewhat more bearable, he thought, as he stared at the people sitting across from him, whose expressions bore the telltale blank look of people who had also recently ingested the drug. Did he look the same way to them as they looked to him - so blank and expressionless? He didn’t care. 

Finally, as the third day of the strikes drew on, residents who had their own comm devices began shouting that the raids had ended. 

“We should go look for her,” Joa said as they gathered their things from the hallway.

“Yes.” Losha paused to dump the blanket onto his bed. He found himself longing to lay on its relative softness even though he knew it would be some time before he slept again. Sur could keep one up for days. At times they had gone to the kitchen in the middle of the night and found another resident, restless from sur, scrubbing the stove fervently or polishing the cabinet knobs with fierce voracity. “But I want to do this first,” he said, pulling a small container out of the wardrobe. 

It was kenal. He could not leave and look for Malar in his current state - he was too anxious. The kenal would relax him and, should he find something horrible had happened to her, it would allow him to function. Once after ingesting a great deal of sur, he had seen a young man, probably only a few years older than he was, blown apart when he stepped on an explosive. It was only the second time he had seen someone die - the first being Kadren. This young man was about Kadren’s age at the time he died and Losha’s thoughts had immediately returned to that awful day. He had hurried home, trying to push the memory from his mind. By the time he got to his room, his heart was beating so rapidly he felt as is if he were having a heart attack. I’ve taken too much, he thought, and fully expected to die there on his bed. He hadn’t died but he had learned his lesson. He would never again ingest that large a quantity. There was no need now anyway, now that he had begun taking kenal as well.

After both he and Joa had gulped down the white pills, they went looking for Malar. She was not in her building, which was undamaged. Her roommate had not seen her since prior to the airstrikes and had assumed she had been with Losha and Joa or one of her wealthy boyfriends or girlfriends. Losha and Joa couldn’t keep up with them - was she still seeing the woman who had made her money in the remodeling business before the war or had she dropped her in favor of the man who sold distilled liquors? It was possible she was still seeing both or neither of them. At times she would declare a relationship over, only to announce months later that the person had re-entered her life. She only cared that whoever they were, they were willing to spend credits on her. 

There were many places throughout the city that Malar liked to frequent, but most of them would only now just be re-opening after the three day curfew. There was one place that was certain to have been open for some time though - the Maysal. 

It had once been the Maysal Artists Colony, a set of connecting buildings of thick stone that were said to be over five hundred years old. Parts of it had been damaged during the war and it was now deemed unsafe, though the designation hadn’t stopped Hakarans displaced by the war from taking up residence there. In addition to homeless, the Maysal was frequented by drug users, prostitutes, and young people looking for a hangout spot. Losha, Joa, and Malar all spent a good deal of time there. Although both he and Joa were technically still students, they rarely attended classes so they had a good deal of free time. Attendance was not compulsory at Hakaran universities - one only needed to pass the test at the conclusion of a course. 

At one time Losha had enjoyed classes but since Vensar’s death he had had little interest in attending them. Still, he had no difficulty in learning enough to pass the bi-annual tests. Joa had once aspired to be lawyer - he could talk himself out of just about any situation - but his growing addiction to sur had dampened his ambitions. He still insisted that “one day” he would be a lawyer, but Losha knew that he didn’t really believe it. 

Losha found something peaceful and calming in the stone walls of the Maysal. It was so large that he usually didn’t have any trouble finding a place to be alone, or at least relatively alone, there. He and Joa split up and agreed to meet near the main entrance after they had completed their respective searches. It was approaching evening, the time when it was least crowded. People took refuge behind the cool stone during the heat of the day but tended to head out as the sun went down, returning later at night. 

He walked towards an alley between two of the buildings that led to a large, open room on the left. This room was where he, Joa, Malar, and other friends could often be found. As he got closer to the alley’s entrance, he heard yelling. He began to run and when he reached the alley, he found Malar struggling with a man who had her pushed up against the building. He held her against the wall with his left hand while his right felt over her pockets. Her bag lay on the ground beside them, contents scattered across the ground. Malar was tall and strong but this man was taller and clearly stronger. 

Losha wasn’t sure if it was the sur, the kenal, or the monster inside him, but he was so enraged that he beat the man senseless. Later, he recalled that it had been like watching himself in a film. It wasn’t him grabbing the man, throwing him against the building, and punching him unconscious. He would not have done something so violent - he would have used the nerve pinch. No, Velekh would have used the nerve pinch. He didn’t know who Velekh was anymore.

Malar had called the medics and instructed him to go home while she looked for Joa. Two days later, the police had come to his room and arrested him. It hadn’t been hard to find the only Vulcan living in Undaa. The man, it turned out, had been the one who sold the distilled liquor - Malar’s sometime boyfriend. As he had no criminal convictions and Losha and Malar had one each, his word was deemed more credible than theirs. Malar had kept the kenal the man had been looking for in her pocket though, kenal that he had given her, and had sold enough of it to buy Losha out of jail after five days. That’s how things worked in Hakar at that time. The war-beleaguered government did not have the resources to deal with petty criminals - they’d rather have their money.


	25. Chapter 25

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

Sarek stepped out of the ground car onto the ruined road; this was as far as the driver could take him. Pieces of what was once the sand-colored stone road, evidence of the war that had ended nearly twelve years ago, blocked further passage. Beyond the initial debris, the road buckled up about a meter from the ground. Well-worn footpaths circumvented the debris on both the right and left. Sarek chose the path on the right, which afforded him a closer view of the sea, spread out behind the grayish stone houses. He could see it as he passed between houses, blue-green water disappearing into the horizon. It was approaching dusk and he caught glimpses of the sun here and there between the buildings as it sunk in the sky. The smell of saltwater hung in the air, reminding him of San Francisco. 

There was none of the noise and bustling of San Francisco here though - all was very still. It was hard to imagine that not long ago bombings and phaser strikes had occurred in such a peaceful place. How long would the debris remain as a reminder? He paused in front of a pile of rubble in a place where a house had obviously once stood, staring out at the sea beyond. Aside from this spot and two others on the opposite side of the street, the other houses remained intact, though many of their exteriors were damaged. The drab, gray houses appeared quite old and all were built in a similar style. Some had small balconies on the second floor, most filled with potted plants and flowers, a small table, and chairs. A few of the balconies were completely bare, giving the impression that they were unoccupied.

They had driven through the small town of Orlyanal on their way in and though it was tiny compared to the capital city of Undaa, from which he had set our earlier in the day, he had observed people walking along the streets there. Here there was no one. It was just as well - Sarek had had no time alone to gather his thoughts since leaving Deep Space Four the previous night. It had been thirty-three days since Losha left the station and returned to Senes. Negotiations with Ambassadors Tala and Barees had prevented Sarek from leaving sooner, something he felt a twinge of guilt about. Logically, he knew it would have been impossible for him to leave in the midst of negotiations. He could have relayed certain information to Losha but he felt it was necessary to discuss other things with him in person. Making him aware of certain things earlier would not change the outcome anyway. 

He had had some time to prepare for the conversation he would soon need to have but still he did not feel prepared. He was comfortable dealing with emotional beings in his line of work, but outside the sphere of diplomacy, he felt less at ease. After almost sixty years, he was quite comfortable dealing with Amanda’s emotions but this was different. Losha was a virtual stranger to him. He focused on his breathing and continued down the road. 

The houses were not numbered but he knew which one to look for - the last house on the right. Beyond it the road ended abruptly at an area covered with shrubs and small trees. The heavy metal knocker on the door was somewhat corroded from the salt air but still functional. He had anticipated arriving several hours earlier but the condition of the roads leading from Undaa to here had delayed him significantly. A short distance outside the city he had lost communications service so he’d had no way to inform his hosts of his late arrival. He pulled the knocker and waited. Soon it opened and a young Seenan woman ushered him inside, taking his bag from him.

In stark contrast to the battered outside of the house, the inside was perfectly well-maintained. He followed the woman, who had not introduced herself, down a hallway containing a few tapestries on the walls and a small table that displayed a vase. There were rooms off to the sides of the hall but the woman headed straight back into a large kitchen. The kitchen glass doors led out onto a patio that overlooked a pool and beyond that, a reddish wooden fence ended in steps going down to the beach. The fence did not continue on the other side of the steps, giving a stunning view of the sea and sun to the woman who sat at a table on the patio, her back to them. 

The young woman he was following called in Haka to the woman seated at the table. She replied without turning to them. The young woman responded, then smiled at Sarek and nodded towards the table as the woman finally stood and turned toward him. She was nearly as tall as he, lean, and her copper colored hair, which appeared to be nearly shoulder length, was pulled back into clip that matched her hair color.

“Ambassador Sarek, welcome. I am Malar.” She said in Standard and nodded once in Seenan custom. Sarek returned the gesture and was about to speak when Malar held her right hand up to form the ta’al.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said, raising his hand to form the ta’al as well.

“Please, have a seat. Losha has gone down to the beach. I’m not sure how long it will be before he returns.” Sarek took the seat opposite her at the table.

“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink? Perhaps you are hungry after your long trip?” Her voice was deep and rich and though her Standard was quite good, he detected the unmistakable Hakaran accent he had heard from the crewmembers on Deep Space Four.

“A drink would be most welcome.” 

“What would you like? This,” she said, pointing to the glass in front of her, “is called lehend. It is a fruit juice mixed with a distilled liquor. It’s quite sour. I can also have Katas bring you the juice without the liquor, if you prefer, or water, or just about anything else. I’m not sure whether you’re familiar with what we drink here in Hakar.” As she spoke, he noticed her looking him over carefully. She was quite sly about it - someone less observant than Sarek likely would not have noticed. 

“I have learned quite a bit about Hakar and Senes recently but I am not familiar with the food or drink. Water will be fine.” Malar exchanged a few words with the young woman, Katas, who then turned to the house.

“You mentioned that Losha is at the beach. He is able to get around without assistance then?”

“To some degree. He wouldn’t be able to make it down to the beach and back on his own though. He’s with Betal now - that’s the girl I’ve hired to help him.”

“I presume Betal is not a child?”

“Oh, no,” Malar snorted. “We don’t have child labor here, despite how backward we are in many ways. She’s just very young. She and Katas, my assistant who showed you in. They seem so young to me, I think of them as children.” 

“You cannot be much older than them yourself.” Seenans had a similar life expectancy as humans and Malar appeared to be well under forty.

“No, I’m not old enough to be their mother but I feel like it. The war aged us all very quickly.” She took a sip of her lehend. “But I don’t want to talk about that. I hope you didn’t come all this way to bring us bad news?”

“No, but may I first enquire about Losha?” He needed to speak with Losha before revealing any pertinent details.

“Of course. He’s not doing well, if that’s what you want to know. He’s miserable. If he weren’t my closest friend, I may have thrown him out of the house by now.” She smiled and laughed softly. “No, of course I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry, I tend to make jokes about serious things. I find it makes things more bearable. It’s been very difficult for him, as you can imagine. He doesn’t like taking help from others; he’s very stubborn when it comes to that. He wouldn’t have agreed to let me hire Betal at all except that he realized it was necessary. He was adamant that Naalem return to school, even though he could have completed his school work remotely. The school was very understanding and I wanted Naalem to stay, but Losha felt that someone he views as his own child should not be taking care of him. I agree with him on that point but there is no reason Naalem and Betal couldn’t both be here. I’ve got the room. Anyway, I apologize for rambling. Please tell me you’ve found a way for Losha to have that surgery.” 

At that moment, Katas returned to the table, drinks in hand.


	26. Chapter 26

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2283.167

“I can’t believe you’re going to live here.” Losha gave Malar a look of disbelief. She couldn’t believe it herself. They were standing on the beach behind the house she had bought four days ago. It would soon be midday and the heat would begin to get uncomfortable, at least for her. Losha had a much higher tolerance for high temperatures - his ancestors came from a desert planet that probably got much hotter than it ever did in Hakar. Naalem would not want to come inside despite the heat. He was fascinated by the sand and water and if they let him, would probably insist on staying out until he passed out from heat exhaustion. It was funny, she thought, how only two years away from Hakar and she was no longer accustomed the warm climate. Or maybe it was just that today was unusually hot for this time of year. She had traveled to places with much hotter climates, though hadn’t spent much time outside. Lesara had made sure they’d traveled in style. And now she had bought this old ruin of a house that didn’t even have a climate control system. What had she been thinking?

Nostalgia. It had been nostalgia. How strange that she had become nostalgic, she who had always looked to the future, to leaving Undaa and Hakar and maybe even Senes behind. She had always envied Losha’s experiences traveling from planet to planet, discovering new places, meeting new people. But now that she had spent two years traveling around her own planet, she found herself becoming nostalgic. Her trip around Senes had been just what she’d needed at the time - to get out of Hakar and visit places that hadn’t spent the past eleven years in civil war. She never thought she’d miss Undaa, she had been so tired of it when she’d left. But then she found herself missing Losha and Joa and even Naalem, missing the familiar comfort of the city whose every street she knew. 

She had also found herself thinking of the Sea of Lataan, where she had spent time as a child. Her grandmother had lived in Orlyanal and she’d spent time here every year with her. She’d always look forward to the beach and the sea but she knew that after a day or two, their novelty would wear off and she’d be bored. There was little to do in Orlyanal - it was a town of retirees, not tourists. Unlike other beaches she’d visited, which were packed with people and filled with excitement, one could walk the entire length of the beach in Orlyanal and only encounter a dozen or so people, all sitting quietly in the sand or floating quietly in the water. The silence would occasionally be broken by the laughter or shout of a visiting grandchild but even that was rare. Young Malar had always been somewhat relieved when it was time to return home to Undaa. 

So it had come as somewhat of a surprise to her that a few months ago she began thinking once again not only of Undaa, where she knew she was returning, but also Orlyanal. Lesara, a DJ and music producer, had been offered a gig in Undaa and so they had returned to their home city for the first time in two years. She didn’t believe in fates but it had certainly been fortuitous timing. She and Lesara no longer had the relationship they once did. She cared for him, even loved him, but only as a friend. She had known he felt the same for some time but they had become so comfortable with each other that they had let things go on, not knowing how to end them. Until they returned to Undaa - they both knew it was over then. She had no regrets; she and Lesara remained friends and she had had the experience of a lifetime with him, traveling all around the world. 

Lesara had given her a large allowance during their time together and she had put most of it away. He’d spent so much money on her she hadn’t really even needed the allowance. When she returned to Undaa two months ago, she’d rented out an apartment in the city center until she could find a place to buy. She liked her apartment in Undaa but years spent living in public housing had stirred in her a strong desire to own something. She’d already looked at dozens of places in Undaa when, on a whim, she decided to see what was available in Orlyanal. And now here she was, at age twenty-six, likely the youngest homeowner in the entire town.

The house had been abandoned for some time and required some repair, but she knew the instant she stepped on the back patio and saw its view of the sea that she had to have it. It had belonged to her for four days now and though it was not yet inhabitable by her standards, she’d asked Losha to bring Naalem down for the day. It was time they had the discussion she’d been preparing for since she’d known she was returning to Hakar. 

“Losha, I know I should have come back sooner, when Yeshayn died.” Losha said nothing. She was unsure if he was waiting for her to continue or if he did not know how to respond to her admission. “Tell me the truth, are you angry that I didn’t?” Their relationship had been strained and awkward since she’d returned and she hated it. 

She had left Hakar with no plans to look back until she’d seen as much of the rest of the world as she could, the thought never crossing her mind that she would actually become the legal guardian of a small child. She hadn’t even learned of the death of Naalem’s mother, Yeshayn, until months afterwards. By then she was halfway around the planet from Undaa. She knew then she should return immediately, but she didn’t want to. Taking care of a child had not been a part of her plan. It hadn’t been part of Losha’s plan either, but she had pushed that thought aside and rationalized her absence by telling herself that Losha was better with children than she was. She didn’t know what to do with children - young children made her uncomfortable and older ones annoyed her. Losha had assured her that everything was fine and she hadn’t questioned him. He was out of jail and his father had returned. She knew he probably wanted to leave Senes and that her absence was preventing him from doing so but still she didn’t return. 

Instead, she sent him money. It was enough for him to pay a starship company supervisor to overlook his criminal convictions. Corruption at the government level had been drastically curtailed since the war’s end but it was still a part of Hakaran culture. Though it may not even have been necessary. Businesses were booming as the country rebuilt itself and with all the lives lost as a result of the war and the sur epidemic, there was a shortage of workers. She sent money regularly, enough to cover expenses for Naalem. In addition to the allowance she received from Lesara, she had a substantial savings of her own. Over the years she had put away as much of the money her wealthy boyfriends and girlfriends had given her as possible. Being poor forever had also not been a part of her plan.

“I’m not angry. I was angry when you didn’t return. Then I stopped being angry and was just disappointed.” His smiled faded.

“Can you forgive me?” More than anything she wanted things to be easy between them again. He was the closest thing she had to family and she’d let Lesara distract her from that.

“I forgive you, assuming you forgive me for not listening to you?”

“Not listening to me?” 

“If I had listened to you, I wouldn’t have ended up in jail and maybe I wouldn’t have these memory and other problems.”

“Yes, I was pretty angry at you before I left. You had become selfish. And then I became selfish.” She’d forgotten how angry she had been at him and Joa. She’d forgiven Joa - what else could she have done? He was already suffering the consequences of his actions. “But you aren’t selfish anymore... and I’m trying not to be.”

“I know. If it weren’t for Naalem, I’d probably still be pretty selfish too.”

“That sounds very parental.” She laughed. 

“I know. Isn’t it strange?”

“You were always better with Naalem than I was.”

“That’s not saying much,” he grinned.

“Yes, I’m not good with children but I’m going to try. I want you to be able to leave here, to go see your father.” 

“In another year and a half Naalem will be in school and then I can apply for a position working on the ships.”

“But don’t you want to get out of this place now? See your father?”

“I am alright with staying here a little longer.”

“I suppose it will be awhile before you can trust me again but you still can’t fool me. I know you’re not telling me everything.” He hadn’t changed that much in two years - whenever he didn’t want to talk about something, he’d downplay it, and when he downplayed it, there was a certain way he held his mouth closed and a certain look about his eyes.

“It has nothing to do with trust.”

“What is it then?”

“Only that my father isn’t the person I thought he was. I’m grateful that he cared enough to come back for me and help me. I’m glad I won’t spend the rest of my life thinking he abandoned me. But he doesn’t understand me and I don’t think anyone can understand him. Being angry at him was easier in some ways.”

“He sounds like my mother. If she hadn’t been killed in that air raid, I’d probably have killed her myself by now. Now let’s get Naalem, get in the shade, I’ll get us some drinks, and you can tell me all about it.” She smiled and held out her hand. She’d missed him.


	27. Chapter 27

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

After Katas set the drinks down and turned toward the house, Sarek turned his gaze back to Malar.

“To answer your question, yes. Preparations for the surgery can now move forward.” 

“That’s wonderful news!” A wide smile spread across her face. “Thank you! You have no idea how happy this makes me, how happy this will make Losha! We’ve been trying not to get our hopes up. I’ve even been in contact with some doctors here in Hakar but...well, it doesn’t matter now. We are so grateful for your help. Really, this is the best news I’ve had in a very long time. Thank you.” Malar seemed to radiate joy. 

“You’re welcome. I was glad to help.” 

“So will Losha be able to travel to Vulcan? Or will the surgery be elsewhere?” There was a curious look in her eyes, though her face was still beaming.

“He may travel to Vulcan now.” He didn’t want to reveal too much without speaking to Losha first. Though he suspected Losha was close enough to this woman that confidentiality was unnecessary, it was still advisable that he wait.

“It’s hard to believe. He never thought he’d go there. I’ve had the opportunity myself but it seemed so strange for me to go when he can’t. I didn’t want to upset him.”

“He wished to travel to Vulcan prior to the accident?” Sarek’s curiosity was peaked.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say he wished to go there. I know he was very curious about it when he was younger. I used to ask him about it, because I was curious myself, but he’d say he never thought about it. I don’t know if that’s true or not. But then, Losha and I are a lot alike in some ways - neither of us has ever cared much for tradition. He probably cares for it less than I do because he grew up moving around so much. So maybe he really never has thought about it. Still, our situations are different. Though I don’t care for tradition, this is my planet. I know the people here - they’re my people, whether I like them or not. I can’t imagine what it must be like to not have a people of your own.” 

Malar took a sip of her drink but did not take her eyes off Sarek. Most non-Vulcans, including Seenans, found him intimidating. It was rare to encounter someone who looked him directly in the eye when they met him. Ambassadors Tala and Bareess, being powerful men on their own planet, had had no hesitation in dealing with him, but this had not been the case with their aides, who always seemed somewhat nervous in his presence. He found Malar’s confidence, like Amanda’s when he’d first met her, refreshing.

“I understand being a stateless person has caused difficulties for him.” In some ways, he understood what it must have been like for Losha. Though Spock would disagree, Sarek had understood the difficulties he faced being neither completely Vulcan nor completely human. Still, Vulcan was Spock’s home and had he chosen it; Earth could have been as well. For Losha, Vulcan was as alien to him as Senes was to Sarek. It was difficult to imagine a life so disconnected from any sort of tradition. Without tradition and logic, Sarek could only imagine that he would feel set adrift. 

“Yes. More and more planets seem to be restricting stateless persons these days. I don’t think that will ever happen here. Still, one never knows. I can’t imagine what would happen then.”

“I understand you are a travel agent?” He decided a change of subject was in order as Malar was touching on the topic he wished to discuss with Losha privately. 

“Yes, I specialize in off-planet travel. Mostly I deal in destination weddings, places like Risa, Tarod II, Ivor Prime, Delta, Earth. I have had a few inquiries about Vulcan, though not for weddings.”

“Yes, the climate on Vulcan does not make it ideal as a destination for leisure travel.”

“So I’ve heard. But I’m so glad Losha will be able to go there now.” Sarek tilted his head as a noise approached from the beach. 

“Do you hear something?” Malar asked.

“Someone is approaching from the beach. I presume Losha and Betal are returning.”

“I suppose only a Vulcan could hear that.” Malar smiled again and took a sip of her lehend. “I never could sneak up on Losha. And you remembered Betal’s name though I don’t even remember saying it.”

Soon a young woman in sleeveless shirt and shorts appeared, Losha following her from behind with his hand on her shoulder. When she saw Sarek and Malar, she paused, said something in Haka to Losha, and after a response from him, led him to the table. 

“Ambassador Sarek,” he raised his hand in the ta’al when the young woman stopped in front of the table. 

Sarek had risen from the table at their approach. “Losha, it’s good to see you again.” His hand almost raised of out of habit, but realizing that Losha would not be able to see it, he kept it at his side.

“Thank you for coming all this way. You could have sent a message, I’m sure.”

“Yes, but as I mentioned, there are things I wish to discuss with you in person.” A message would have been much easier - getting here from Deep Space Four had taken nearly an entire day - but not appropriate. The conversation would not be easy but it was necessary. With Amanda’s assistance, he had prepared for it as best he could, but he had long ago learned that when dealing with with emotional beings, one could never entirely anticipate their reactions. Though fifty years spent with Amanda meant he could usually predict her behavior, there were times when she acted in a manner completely different from what was typical.

“Ambassador,” Malar interjected, “would you like Betal and I to leave you and Losha here or would you prefer to speak with him inside?”

“Here is fine. Unless Losha would prefer to go inside?” 

“No, here is fine.” Losha replied, then said something to Betal, who directed him to the chair opposite Sarek where Malar had been sitting. 

“Losha, should I have Katas bring you something to drink?” Malar asked, turning back to the house.

“No, it’s not necessary.”

“Alright, we’ll leave you then.” Malar spoke to Betal and the two of them went inside.

As he returned to his seat Sarek noticed that Losha, who was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, had green marks covering both his arms. 

“Were the injuries to your arms caused by the accident?”

“You mean the bumps?”

“Yes.” 

“No, that’s from esaynem. It’s a plant. The leaves cause skin irritation. There’s a lot of growing around here. I couldn’t see it. I’m not even capable of walking alone.” Losha laughed but Sarek could sense bitterness from him.

“There is no treatment for it?”

“There’s a topical ointment to prevent itching but otherwise I’ll just have to wait for it to go away on its own.”

“I see. I will ask Dr. Divr to examine it. Perhaps she knows of a treatment.”

“Is she here too?”

“No, but this brings me to what I came to discuss with you.”

“I’m listening.” Sarek sensed a combination of anticipation, nervousness, and dread from Losha.

“I will not keep you in suspense - you will be able to travel to Vulcan for surgery. Further arrangements need to be made but there is nothing preventing you from traveling there now.”

“Really?” Sarek could tell Losha did not quite believe him.

“Yes. There are several things I must explain.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I know you didn’t have to help me and I’m sure you think I’m a lying criminal so the fact that you are helping me...I didn’t expect that from a Vulcan.” 

“For a Vulcan it is logical to provide assistance when one can.” Losha clearly had some misconceptions about Vulcans, Sarek realized, but only time and example could clear those up. Losha had served his punishment for his crimes and Sarek accepted that. As to him being dishonest...that was another matter. Though he was unsure whether he could trust Losha, that was not relevant for the time being. 

“Hmmm...well, thank you anyway. You managed to get me special permission to travel to Vulcan then?” He is very curious, Sarek thought. Not surprising.

“No. You do not require special permission to travel to Vulcan. Although you were not aware, I have discovered that you are, in fact, a Vulcan citizen.”

“Are you serious?”

“Certainly. When your application to travel to Vulcan was denied, I requested information from the Vulcan Immigration Service. They provided me with the information they had gathered and I had the opportunity to review it after you left the station. I obtained your mother’s name from your birth certificate and I asked the Information Service to look for information pertaining to her. They complied and could find no evidence that she had broken Vulcan law. She apparently left Vulcan of her own accord and therefore remained a Vulcan citizen. As at least one of your parents was a Vulcan citizen at the time of your birth, you are also a Vulcan citizen.”

“I had no idea. What about my father? He told me he could never go back to Vulcan. But then, my mother said that too.” Losha had lowered his hands from the table and was gripping his knees tightly as he leaned forward slightly 

“I surmise that your mother did not wish to return to Vulcan, though she certainly could have done so, provided she had no plans to encourage others to abandon logic. As far as your father...it is concerning that matter that I have come here.” He paused only briefly before continuing on as he had planned. Dwelling on emotionally charged matters was unpleasant, particularly when it was something personal.

“I was unaware of...who you were...until I came across a legal document with his name on it, a form releasing you from a jail. Sybok was my son. Therefore you are my grandson.”


	28. Chapter 28

Undaa, Hakar, Senes Stardate 2281.72

It was the middle of the day late in the Hakaran winter. Undaa had a temperate climate and the temperature rarely dropped low enough in winter for most Hakarans to consider it cold. For them, late winter and early spring were the best times of year. For Losha, it was colder than he preferred though not unbearably so. It was the time of year when the inmates at Jail Number Six were most restless, as the old building contained only a small courtyard behind in which to walk. At all hours of the day it was filled, making it difficult to do anything other than lean against the walls.

Losha had been confined here for three months and it now seemed that he would have to serve the entire five month sentence. Though she had paid his release fee twice in the past, Malar had made it clear that she wasn’t going to do so again. She felt that it was time he learn his lesson. He had been angry with her at first, but now understood and accepted her position. She was right. He had been throwing his life away and if she paid his release fee, he’d go right back to doing it. Even now, though he was no longer physically addicted to sur and kenal, he longed for them. 

Since there was no way for his body to be active and he could not dull his mind, he busied himself with reading. Sciences, languages, history - he read it all. Lately, he noticed that he was increasingly coming across mentions of Vulcan or Vulcans. Or was it just that he was noticing them more often now than before? And if so, why? Once a mention of Vulcan seemed no more pertinent to him than a mention of Andoria, a planet he’d never seen, but now every time he saw the word, he paused. Perhaps being stuck in the jail for this long had made him sentimental. For the first time in several years, he began thinking of his mother. She would want better for him, he knew, but he didn’t care enough to make any effort. 

Fifteen days after he had been arrested, this time for intent to distribute an illegal substance, the war had finally come to an end. It had buoyed the spirits of the inmates for several weeks afterwards, but things had since gone back to normal. There wasn’t much to celebrate when one was locked up. The planetwide embargo had been lifted and once he was released, he was free to leave Senes. It was something he had once longed for but now that it was possible, he found that he was apprehensive. He was comfortable here. Leaving would also mean completely giving up on the idea of seeing his father again. He knew it was foolish to hold on to childhood hopes of reuniting with him but it was a thought he just couldn’t let go of. Besides, he would miss Joa and Malar. 

If he ever wanted to see Joa again, it would have to be here, on Senes. The last time he had seen him had been just before the war had ended. Joa had come to visit him with promises that he’d soon have enough money to pay his release fee. Joa was good for his word and he anticipated it would only be a few more weeks. Losha would have been free by now were it not for the fact that three days after he visited Losha at the jail, he vaporized a man with his phaser. What had he been thinking, buying a phaser? That phaser had been the first weapon Losha had ever fired - he and Joa used to shoot garbage in the Maysal Artists Colony for fun. They’d called it “cleaning up.” Losha was grateful, however, that his parents had instilled in him such a strong distaste for weapons that the idea of owning one himself frightened him. 

When thoughts of Joa came to mind, he tried to not let them get past the emotional barrier he’d formed in recent years. He wasn’t sure if it had formed as a result of the drugs, or if he had just become jaded, but he now found there was little that upset him. There was also little that made him happy. It was not that he was unhappy, or sad, he just felt nothing and for now, feeling nothing was preferable to feeling sad for Joa. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

He had been reading an article about the ancient Earth philosopher Pythagoras but was having trouble focusing. Perhaps he could go to Earth when he got out of this place. He’d lived there for a few months when he was very young and remembered little but did remember he’d been happy there. There were other Vulcans there, Vulcans who believed, as his parents did, that true enlightenment could only be attained through confronting emotions. He wasn’t sure he believed in attaining anything like enlightenment but perhaps he belonged more among those Vulcans than he did anywhere else. Perhaps his father was back there on Earth. 

He had mixed feelings about seeing him again. Rationally, he knew that his father had had no way to get to Senes for the past eleven years. But a small part of his mind could not let go of the idea that if he had really cared, he would have found a way. The embargo had been lifted - would his father come to Senes? It had been a long time since been able to sense him. He’d had a telepathic sense of him for some time after he’d left Senes but it grew fainter as the years passed - he’d been unsure whether this was the result of time or distance. But then he’d lost nearly all his telepathic senses as a result of the sur. It didn’t feel like his father was dead, but it was possible. He probably would never know.

He tried once again to focus on the article about Pythagoras. Like Surak, he was a man ahead of his time; he understood not only that the Earth was spherical more than a thousand years before it was widely accepted by most humans, but that peace could never be attained so long as humans consumed violence in the form of animal flesh and secretions. As long as Man continues to be the ruthless destroyer of lower living beings, he will never know health or peace. For as long as men massacre animals, they will kill each other. Indeed, he who sows the seed of murder and pain cannot reap joy and love, Pythagoras had said. Pythagoras had not been able to bring peace in his lifetime and neither had Surak, though Surak’s teachings on Vulcan took hold much faster than Pythagoras’ had on Earth. 

And where did the Seenans fit in with this? With the advent of the replicator, they had longed since ceased to consume actual animal flesh or secretions yet they were still fighting wars. Perhaps because the replicators hadn’t really transformed their beliefs, only their eating habits. They weren’t much different compared to humans. Though there was now peace on the planet Earth itself, humans always managed to get themselves involved with wars elsewhere. His philosophical musings were interrupted when a guard entered the room.

“Losha, your release fee has been paid.” He said it so matter-of-factly, Losha almost ignored it. “Did you hear me? Your release fee’s been paid.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Would you prefer to stay here?”

“No! Who paid it?” Had Malar finally changed her mind? She’d been adamant that she wouldn’t. Maybe an acquaintance had decided to pay it and would ask to be reimbursed, more than the fee itself, of course. But sur users were notoriously paranoid and would not trust someone, even a friend, to pay them back. Who then?

“They don’t tell me. You’ll have to ask when you sign out.”

Losha had no possessions in the jail aside from his padd so he said quick goodbyes to his roommates and hurried out to the processing office. Later, he’d think of other people he wished he’d said goodbye to before leaving, but at the time, curiosity got the best of him. At the processing desk, he was handed a padd to sign. His eyes immediately went to the top of the screen, which he was familiar with after three other releases. Release fee tendered by: Sybok. Relationship to inmate: father.


	29. Chapter 29

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

Losha was silent at Sarek’s disclosure so he continued on. “I had Doctor Naik take a genetic sample from me and compare it to your records to be certain.” He paused, taking in a slight breath. “If you have any questions of me, I will answer to the best of my ability.”

Losha continued to stare at him, though Sarek realized he wasn’t actually staring. When Sarek had first seen him without the bandages on his face the day he left Deep Space Four, his blind eyes had somewhat unsettled him. More than that, there had been an expression on Losha’s face that had been oddly familiar. He had quickly dismissed it, but later realized its significance. It was the same expression he had often seen on the face of his oldest son. Amanda had always believed it was an expression Sybok shared with his father, though as he didn’t spend any time studying his own expressions, he couldn’t confirm this.

Aside from the texture of his hair and the shape of his eyes, Sarek had never seen much of himself in Sybok. Perhaps that’s why he had never related to the boy. No, he thought, he hadn’t related to him because he hadn’t had the opportunity to know and raise him until he was nearly an adult. Sybok’s mother had not wanted him involved in her or her son’s life and at the time, he had believed respecting her wishes was the most logical course of action. When the difficulties with Sybok first began, it had taken Sarek some time to let go of the thought that had he been a part of his son’s life from the beginning, Sybok would not have chosen the path he had. Though he knew that regret was illogical and there was no way he could have suspected how events would unfold by choosing not to contest T’Rea’s wishes, he had still struggled with regret for some time after Sybok’s departure from Vulcan.

In the following decades, he had eventually managed to suppress most of his thoughts and feelings concerning Sybok. He had no choice - the chances of him ever seeing his son again were infinitesimally small. Even if they had happened to meet by chance, there was nothing more to be said between the two of them. Sybok had lived with him less than two years and despite Sarek’s efforts, he hadn’t gotten to know his son in that time. Having had no experience with children prior to Sybok’s arrival in his home at the age of seventeen, he hadn’t initially realized that there was anything different about the boy. Sybok was polite, studious, and seemed happy in his new home, though his mind often seemed elsewhere. Sarek had assumed that he was having a great deal more difficulty adjusting to his mother’s death and his abrupt change of environment than he let on, and did not want to cause him any discomfiture by broaching the subject. He thought that with time, their relationship would become more comfortable.   
It had never come to pass and now he found himself in a similar situation, this time with his grandson. He did not wish to repeat his experiences with Sybok, but he had no choice. Losha had a right to know about his origins. 

When Losha finally spoke, it came out as a nervous laugh. 

“I don’t really believe this.” Sarek had been able to sense so many strong emotions from Losha back on Deep Space Four, yet now he felt very little. “You can’t be making this up, right?”

“No.” 

“Yeah, that would be some crazy story to make up, wouldn’t it? It seems so unbelievable.”

“I was quite surprised myself.” He had actually been quite shocked, but he’d overcome the feeling by moving forward with his plans to arrange surgery for Losha. Between that and the negotiations on the station, he’d had little time to be shocked.

“I guess I know my parents must have come from somewhere, that they must have had families, but for me it was like they didn’t exist.” 

“Is there anything you wish to ask me?” Sarek still sensed very little from Losha and found this curious.

“I don’t know. When I was a kid, I probably had all kinds of questions for you. I just haven’t thought about it in a really long time.”

“From the fact that you did not recognize my name when we first met, I assume that you were told nothing of your father’s family?” Sarek hadn’t imagined Sybok would have much to say to his own son about his father, but it had still seemed odd that Losha had not even known his name. 

“No, I don’t know anything about my mother’s family either. I was curious when I was younger, I would ask them questions, but they never wanted to talk about it. That was like another life for them, a life they had moved on from. They didn’t see any point in dwelling on it - it had no meaning to them. I didn’t understand that at first. I wanted to know. But eventually I stopped asking and I realized that they were right, that it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to meet these people anyway so why think about them?

“I know they had siblings - I pestered them until they told me that much. I used to want a brother or sister so I was always asking them about that. But they never told me their names or anything about them. And then after my mother died, my father told me that his mother had died when he was young too. But that’s all I ever knew. I don’t know her name and I didn’t know yours.”

“And do you wish to know more now?” Sarek hadn’t considered that perhaps Losha would not have any questions for him. He could not fathom not knowing one’s family and family history, and not knowing, not wanting to know. But Sybok did not think the way he did, the way Vulcans did, so perhaps it was not so surprising that his son would be no different.

“Well, yes. I mean, there’s no point in thinking about questions that can’t be answered, but if they can be…”

“Your grandmother’s name was T’Rea. She died when your father was seventeen. I did not know your mother or her family. Her birth certificate listed her parents’ names - Sekla and V’Las - but I did not research further details about the family. Your father had one sibling - my younger son is Spock.”

“You said my mother was free to return to Vulcan when she wished. But not my father?”

Sarek gazed past Losha to the beach and sea beyond. Though he had prepared himself for this topic, it was the one he least wanted to discuss. With the news of Sybok’s death five years earlier, uncomfortable emotions had resurfaced and he had been forced to deal with them for the second time. He had not anticipated that this old wound would be ripped open again. The tear had begun slowly, when he first saw Sybok’s name on the jail release document. But nothing had been certain then, not until Dr. Naik had done a genetic comparison. Then, when she had confirmed Losha’s identity, he felt the tear continue and had made every effort to push the feeling aside. Instead, he had prepared for Amanda’s reaction; it was much easier to suppress his own emotions when he focused on comforting her. Now he would have to confront the subject head on and Losha’s very existence meant he could not just bury it permanently, as he once believed he had.

“No. To encourage others to embrace emotion...One who has done so faces permanent exile. I trust you understand this. Should you choose to follow in your father’s footsteps, you will face the same fate.” Though Losha did not seem to have the same aspirations as his father, Sarek could not afford to make assumptions. When Sybok had first come to live with him, Sarek had not recognized any desire in him to behave as he later would. He did not know in what manner Sybok had raised him and he had to be prepared for the possibility that the young man was just as dangerous as his father.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not interested in talking to anyone on Vulcan about emotions or anything else. I promise to leave as soon as soon as the surgery’s over.” At that, Sarek turned his gaze back to Losha.

“You need not make me or anyone else any promises. Regardless of the fact that you were born elsewhere, Vulcan is your home and it is your right to return there. However, since you have not studied Vulcan logical disciplines, I would be remiss in my obligations to you if I did not inform you of the potential consequences of certain behaviors.”

“I understand. But I don’t think of Vulcan as my home so you don’t have to worry about that. You should also know that I haven’t spoken to my father in six years. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing.”

This Sarek had not been prepared for. How had he not known? Then he considered the fact that Dr. Dvir had identified telepathic damage. He gazed toward the beach again, considering the best way to deliver the news, recalling the surge of emotions he had perceived from Losha during their conversation on Deep Space Four. It was not an experience he wished to repeat, though it now seemed unavoidable.

“I regret that I must inform you that Sybok died five point three years ago. My son, Spock, informed me that he was killed by a malevolent alien entity.”


	30. Chapter 30

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

“He’s dead?” Ambassador Sarek’s words seemed unreal. 

“I’m sorry. I assumed you were aware.” There was kindness in his voice, something Losha was unprepared for. In his few prior conversations with the man, he had seemed very reserved, very emotionless, very Vulcan.

“So how does your son know? I didn’t think my father was in contact with any of his family. It’s strange he wouldn’t have told me.” Or perhaps not so strange, Losha thought. He had long ago realized he would never be able to predict his father’s behavior. 

“Spock encountered Sybok by chance in his line of duty as a Starfleet captain.”

“And some alien just killed him?”

“Starfleet has classified some of the details of the incident, but I can tell you that he died so that others could escape.”

“Where did this happen?” If he kept asking questions, Losha thought, it might seem more real.

“Unfortunately, that is classified information.”

“Why is this all classified? Or is that classified too?” He could only begin to imagine what his father had done to get involved in an incident Starfleet considered classified.

“I can relay more details of the situation if you wish, but I do not believe now is the proper time.”

“Why?” He would just keep asking questions to prevent reality from setting in.

“You have only just learned of his death. You have had no time to grieve.”

“This doesn’t seem real.” Losha focused on the sound of the light wind blowing across the sea. 

“I understand you were not expecting to hear everything I’ve told you today. Perhaps you need some time alone. We can continue this conversation later, if you prefer.”

“I don’t know how long it’s going to be for any of this to seem real. Really, nothing has seemed real since the accident.” He chuckled at his word choice and then paused. Uncomfortable situations made him laugh - it was something he’d never been able to control. Did the ambassador find the conversation just as bizarre and awkward as he did? He could not imagine that this calm, unemotional man was related to his father. He wanted to know the details of his father’s death, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear them now because he wanted the conversation to end. It was too much to take in at once. There was, however, something that he did want to know now.

“When can I go to Vulcan to have the surgery?”

“There is a ship leaving Deep Space Four for Vulcan in five days. I trust that will be sufficient time for you to prepare?”

“Yes, there’s nothing I need to do to prepare. I can’t work, I just sit around all day doing nothing.” Losha was anxious to escape the misery of everyday life that blindness had brought him, but he realized he couldn’t just get on a ship to Vulcan and go. “But I need help. I’ve learned to do some things, but I wouldn’t be able to manage without help.”

“I assumed you would require some assistance. I had planned to make arrangements for someone to accompany you. Your partner or your aide, whomever you prefer.” At that, Losha laughed outright.

“Oh, Malar isn’t my partner. She’s like my sister.”

“My apologies, I should not have assumed.”

“Well, I am living here with her so I can see why you’d have thought that. But no, we are like family.” He smiled inwardly. Like family who can’t stop irritating each other when they’re stuck together all the time, he thought. They were both very independent people who preferred to live, well, independently. He’d stayed at the house in Orylanal many times before, but things were different now that he was blind, unable to function completely independently, and bored out of his mind. Betal was there most of the time, but when she wasn’t, he hated having to rely on Malar. He hated relying on Betal as well, but she was getting paid to do a job. Malar had her own life to lead and he disliked being a burden to her.

“Then I assume you would like your aide to accompany you?” 

That wasn’t an ideal scenario either. “Betal barely knows me. She’s only been here two weeks. She’s very shy and she finds talking to me awkward. I don’t think she’s ever seen a Vulcan before and I don’t think she’d be thrilled to make a trip to another planet full of aliens.”

“I don’t believe there is sufficient time to find a replacement.”

“No, Malar will come. I just need to talk to her.”

“Very well, shall I ask her to come speak with you?”

“Yes. But…” He wasn’t sure how to ask. Better to just get it out. “I assume you did not have a good relationship with my father?”

Sarek paused before he answered. “We did not know one another well. He lived with me only two years before he left Vulcan.”

“Where did he live before that?”

“With his mother.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t expected to hear that, but he supposed even Vulcans divorced. It seemed strange to him that his father had parents at all. He couldn’t imagine how his father had ever even lived on Vulcan, certainly not with a father like this. He wanted to know more, but he felt the conversation was strained enough. “Well, if you could get Malar for me, I’d appreciate it. I left my comm inside.” He probably could have asked the ambassador to help him inside, but it was too awkward.

He heard Sarek getting up from the chair, his steps on the stone patio, and the door opening. He focused on the wind again. Unlike the ocean on Ivor Prime, the Sea of Lataan was fairly quiet. There were few waves and tides that were barely noticeable. There were also no seabirds. Most of the time the only thing he could hear was the wind, or an occasional splash or sound of a neighbor. It had been beautiful to look at, but it was too silent to enjoy when one couldn’t see. More noise came from the insects in the shrubs abutting the house, but they made no noise now as the sun had not yet set. Nighttime was when they went about their business. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when he heard footsteps approaching. Malar must have been otherwise occupied when Sarek went in or she would have been out sooner.

“So,” she exclaimed as she approached him, “when are we leaving for Vulcan?”

“He told you?”

“He had already told me when we were waiting for you and Betal to return.”

“What did he say just now?” It seemed a long time since the ambassador had gone inside, but he couldn’t imagine that he had relayed such personal information to Malar, whom he had only just met.

“He just needed some information from me to make travel arrangements. Why? You seem anxious.”

“I’m tired of sitting here. Let’s go down to the beach.”

He followed Malar down to the beach, holding onto her shoulder.

“Do you want to keep walking or shall we sit down?” She asked when they had walked some distance from the house.

“Let’s sit down.” 

“So tell me what’s wrong. Are you anxious about the surgery?” She asked when they had made themselves comfortable in the sand.

“No.” And then it all came pouring out. He told her everything Sarek had said. Repeating it aloud didn’t make it seem any more real.

“Wow, that’s just unbelievable,” she finally said.

“Yeah.” It was all he could say. It was unbelievable.

“I’m sorry about your father. It’s so hard to believe.” She was repeating herself. What else was there to say?

“Remember when I told you that I thought something might have happened to him?”

“Yes.” 

The thought had first crossed his mind when it had been two years since his father had contacted him. “I didn’t really believe it though. I knew, rationally, that something was strange, but I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to and I thought I would have known. I knew the moment my mother died, even though I wasn’t with her. I just can’t believe it’s been all this time and I didn’t know. I know my mind isn’t what it used to be, but I thought I would know. I don’t know why I thought I would at least know that.”

“I’m sorry.” He felt her hand on his arm.

“I thought one day he’d be back again, just like always. Maybe it would be another eleven years, but I just never imagined he’d never be back. I suppose I should have known; he’s never gone this long without talking to me, not since the war ended.”

They sat there in silence for some time before Malar spoke. “Well, you have a grandfather now.”

“Do I? He barely knew my father and I don’t know that he wants anything to do with me. Imagine finding out the crazy son you haven’t spoken to in fifty some years has a son? One who doesn’t believe in your way of life. He probably wishes he’d never met me.”

“He came here, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but he was trying to help me before he found all this out. I think he just feels obligated.” The awkwardness in his conversation with Sarek had been palpable. 

“If he was trying to help you when he thought you were a stranger, he seems like a pretty good guy.”

“I didn’t say that he wasn’t. Just that it’s not like he and I are family now. Once I have the surgery, I’ll be back here and I’ll probably never seen him again.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t want anything from him.”

“Maybe he wants something from you. Maybe he wants to get to know you.”

“No.” Losha felt his throat constrict. He turned his head to the side so that Malar would not see the tears that were about to fall. He couldn’t stop them.


	31. Chapter 31

Undaa, Hakar, Senes Stardate 2281.72

Losha froze, staring at the information on the padd at the jail processing desk. His father had paid his release fee.

“The man who paid my release fee, is he here? Or did he pay it remotely?” He looked at the clerk questioningly.

“Your father, right? He’s waiting outside.” The clerk took the padd and turned back to the monitor on his desk.

“Thanks.” He walked slowly past the desk and down the short hallway that led to the small waiting area at the front of the building. Each step seemed to take a great deal of effort. It was the same feeling he had when he was a child and he would stand pressing his arms in a door frame until they felt so light they lifted up of their own accord. Only now the feeling was in his legs.

For years after his mother’s death, he had been desperate for his father to return. He remembered lying in the bed at that first shelter with Kadren, believing that despite the travel embargo, his father would find a way to get to him. He began to lose hope after Kadren died, and by the time he was fourteen, more than three years after he had last seen Sybok, he no longer thought about it. At that point it seemed that the war would never end, so hope only seemed like a way to ensure misery. When the war had ended, he had thought about it briefly, but from a much more emotionally distant place than when he was younger. 

The tiny waiting area was packed with people waiting to register to visit an inmate or pay a release fee. There was no room to wait there. His father must be outside. He made his way past the crowd and pushed the door, which opened onto a narrow street. Sybok was standing in front of the building opposite the door, his face set in a wide smile. He looked exactly as Losha remembered him.

“Velekh!” He held his hands out in the Vulcan custom. Losha approached him slowly, his legs still unsteady. He laid his hands on top of Sybok’s to return the gesture. After a moment, Sybok stepped back, studying him.

“You weren’t sure that I would come back for you.” There was a pensive look on his face.

Losha stood there, unable to move, as if frozen to the spot. It was strange to hear Vulkansu after all this time. Sybok stepped closer to him and touched his hand to Losha’s temple. And then Losha understood that Sybok had been looking for him. He had never been far, and when he learned that the travel embargo to Senes had been lifted, he had made his way there from Aaamazzara. He had spent the last few months searching for his son.

Sybok smiled and embraced him. He returned the embrace, still at a loss for words.

“We have much to talk about.” Sybok stepped out of the embrace. 

“Yes,” was all Losha could manage to say.

“Where would you like to go?” 

“I don’t have a place to live anymore. My friend is storing my things.” His room at the public housing unit had been reassigned after both he and Joa had been arrested.

“You have a place to live now. It’s in the second district. Shall we retrieve your things from your friend?” 

And so he contacted Malar and they made their way to where she was living with Lesara. She had been shocked to see Losha free and even more shocked to see his father. But she was happy for him.

“Your friend is very concerned about you, Velekh,” Sybok said when they had made their way back to the apartment he was renting in the second district. Their conversation thus far had been superficial. Sybok had wanted to hear what Losha had been doing, how he was feeling, but Losha did not want to discuss things so personal out in the street. Not that anyone would likely understand Vulkansu - there were just some things one did not speak of in public. “I am too,” Sybok continued. “I know things have been difficult for you here.”

“Yes.” They sat across from each other at a low wooden table in the living room of the apartment.

“You never used to be so quiet.” He had a sad, yet reassuring expression on his face. “You have lost your senses.”

“Yes.” 

“I have felt for some time that there was something different about you, but I didn’t know what it was until I saw you. I don’t know that there is anything I can do.” He shook his head slowly.

“I didn’t think there was. I am used to it this way now.” It was the truth. 

“I am sorry. I will do whatever’s possible.” He paused, then caught Losha’s eyes. “It has affected you in other ways too. You are disconnected from your own emotions.”

“Yes.” His father’s gaze held him in a trance.

“It was necessary for you to survive. I understand. When your mother died, I wanted to be there for you, to comfort you. It pained me that I couldn’t. But you need no longer be disconnected. You need to heal.”

“I have healed. I accepted her death a long time ago.” It wasn’t entirely true. He accepted it because he did not allow himself to think of her. 

“Is one who is healed so self destructive?” When Losha did not reply, Sybok continued. “I know what you have done. I saw your records at the jail. But I didn’t need to see them. I already knew.” 

“Don’t read my thoughts. I’m not a child anymore.” He knew that Sybok must have seen his records, but he didn’t want him knowing the details. He had once felt that he was beyond feeling shame, and when it came to other people, he was. But it was different with his father. 

“I can sense these things without reading your thoughts, Velekh.” Sybok turned his head up, a slight look of surprise on his face. “You go by another name now.”

“You said you weren’t reading my thoughts.” 

“I’m not. When I said your name, I felt a very strong reaction.” He looked at Losha closely again. “You feel that Velekh is dead. I don’t need to read your thoughts to know this. You don’t understand because you have lost your ability to sense me and others. Do you remember when we lived on Rhaandar VI?”

“Yes.” It was the last place they had lived before moving to Senes.

“Your mother did not want to tell me that she was tired of moving. I was frustrated with her because she couldn’t let go of some of her Vulcan disciplines. She still felt that certain emotions should be suppressed. And you sensed that I was frustrated. Do you remember what you said to me?”

“Yes.” It had been so long since Losha had thought of Rhaandar VI, but he remembered. “I told you that you were doing the same thing. You were suppressing your frustrations.”

“You told me the feeling was so strong, you couldn’t ignore it.”

“Yes, it was so strong that it made me frustrated.” His father’s frustration had been so palpable that he’d been unable to shake it off. 

“And so it is the same now. Your feelings are that strong.” Losha had to concede that he had had a strong reaction to hearing his name again, now used several times by his father. “Velekh is not dead. We all change. We all become different people as we learn and grow. You might not be the person you are if we had never come here, but you still wouldn’t be the same Velekh you were eleven years ago. Even I am not the same father you once knew.” Sybok stood up and moved over to the small couch where Losha was sitting. Once again, he touched his hand to his temple.

Losha began to see how Sybok had changed. He had despaired when he felt the bond he shared with T’Amar severed, and knew she was dead. He instantly regretted that he had not been there with her, and was angry that he had left her and Velekh alone. He felt he had been foolish for not anticipating the political unrest in Hakar would lead to war. He was desperate to get back to his son and had attempted to get to Senes, despite the travel embargo. The embargo had been a source of extreme frustration and anger for him. Eventually, he realized he had to accept the situation. He had to let go of his anger and move past it. This had taken several years. Now he realized that the pain had been necessary for him to understand himself more deeply. 

Sybok had faced the pain of his own mother’s death and had grown from that experience. He had not wanted Velekh to experience the same pain, and that fueled his desperation to get back to him. But he now understood that Velekh must learn from his own experience. Anyone could know happiness, or contentedness, but one could not truly know oneself until he had faced great sorrow and pain. This was what Sybok now believed.

His father’s emotions were overwhelming. When Sybok removed his hand from his face, Losha realized it was wet with tears. It was the first time he had cried like this in years.

“I don’t want to feel these things,” he choked out. “I prefer to feel nothing.”

“It’s too much for you right now. I am sorry.” Sybok stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll make us something to eat and when can talk of other things.”

He must have understood how much Losha hated crying in front of other people. It didn’t take long to replicate food, but he left him alone for some time. They ate dinner in silence, a Vulcan custom his parents had maintained even in their exile. It was not Seenan custom, but it suited Losha that night. He feared if he opened his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to stop from crying. Later, over tea, he found he was feeling better and he managed to speak with his father for a several hours without feeling overwhelmed.

But the emotions came back later that night when he went to the bedroom that was now his. Most of what he owned was in two large suitcases sitting unopened on the floor. There were a few more boxes he had left with Malar - things he did not need immediately and could retrieve later. 

The apartment, like the one they had lived in in the ninth district before his mother had died, had come pre-furnished. And like the furnishings there, these were sturdy, older, and wooden. The rug on the floor was even similar to the ones in the old apartment. It was so different from the shelters and public housing units he had been living in for the past eleven years. Those all contained minimal, modern furnishings. They never felt like a real home. He hadn’t thought he minded, but now the memories of the apartment on Alseren Street were coming back to him. The building he had lived in had long since been demolished. He knew this only from Joa as he had carefully avoided the street since the explosion that had killed T’Amar. 

His emotions began to overwhelm him again. He was tired of crying, and being in this place that seemed so much like the last place his entire family had been together was not something he felt he could cope with right now. He waited until he was certain his father was asleep and then he quietly left. The apartment was just north of an area known as The Triangle, a place he had spent a great deal of time. He knew plenty of people who would be hanging around there this time of night who would be happy to share some kenal with an old acquaintance recently released from jail.


	32. Chapter 32

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

Losha wiped his tears away and turned back toward the sea. His father had tried to get to know him when he had finally returned to Senes, but he had pushed him away. He hadn’t wanted him probing into the details of his life, and hadn’t known how to deal with the emotional upheaval his presence caused. Eventually, he felt more at ease with his father, though it was not the relationship he had once hoped for. He had no desire to go through that experience again - of trying to understand a family member, trying to have a relationship that brought contentment, and failing. His father, who knew him better than he knew himself, could not understand him, so how could he even think that any kind of relationship was possible with a man who was not only a stranger, but a Vulcan? 

He did not want to discuss his emotions with Malar, so he simply said, “There is a reason my parents left Vulcan.”

“I know. You don’t have to become one of them to get to know your grandfather.”

“Let’s not talk about this now.” There were so many thoughts going through his mind and he had no adequate way of expressing them.

“Alright. Let’s talk about our trip to Vulcan. I want Naalem to come and Sarek said it was ok.”

“You’re calling him Sarek now?” How had Malar managed to get so comfortable with him in such a short time? 

“That’s what he told me to call him.” 

“You shouldn’t have asked him about Naalem. He’s doing enough for me as it is. I’m sure he doesn’t want a child tagging along. And I don’t want him missing more school.”

“Tagging along? Naalem can take care of himself. He was even taking care of you.” Malar paused. “Ah, that’s it,” she said, understanding dawning. “I know it was awkward to have him taking care of you.”

“You and I are alike, Malar. Can you imagine what it would be like for you to have to be dependent on someone else? I hate it. I hate it so much.” 

“I know.” She paused again. “Do you think of me as independent?”

“Of course. You’re probably the most independent person I know.” 

“Even though all the money I started out with came from other people, like Lesara?”

“But that doesn’t have anything to do with it. You would have found a way on your own.” It was true. Though he felt himself to be fairly independent, Malar had a much stronger resolve than he did. 

“Yes, but I was helped by other people. If I hadn’t let them help me, I wouldn’t be where I am now. Do you think Lesara thought of me as charity?”

“No.” Lesara had felt lucky to have Malar, as had most of her romantic partners.

“He gave me a lot of money. Because he wanted to. Most people want to share what they have with the people they care about. If I needed anything, you would help me. You wouldn’t think less of me, would you?”

“No.” He knew Malar was right, but he didn’t see how he could ever feel comfortable with letting go of his independence. “You’re right. Why are you always right?”

“Because I’m older than you.” He heard the smile in her voice. She was, in fact, two years older. “I know it’s different because Naalem has always been dependent on you. I’ll be the one to help you, just as we planned. I just think it would be a good experience for him. He’s always wanted to visit another planet. I feel like I should have brought him along with me on some of my trips. But you know me, I’m still pretty selfish. I didn’t want him tagging along. But now he’s old enough that I enjoy his company. Will you agree if I tell you his company will make me happy?”

“You’re going to to do what you want anyway.” He felt dried tears as he smiled.

“But he can still help you with certain things. Like dressing.” There was laughter in her voice.

“I can dress myself. I just need you to pick out the clothes.”

“Well, he can help you with...you know.”

“I don’t need much help with that either. If you want him to come, I don’t want him to feel burdened by having to help me. I want him to be able experience new things.”

“Agreed. But just think, Losha, it won’t be for long. Soon you’ll be able to see again.”

“Ambassador Sarek’s doctor said there is only an 87% chance of complete visual restoration.” He had to be wary of getting his hopes up too high.

“And you told me she said there was a 98% chance of partial visual restoration.”

“Yes.” He didn’t really know what “partial visual restoration” would mean so he hadn’t considered it. 

“I’m going to be optimistic.” Malar had always been optimistic. He knew it was part of the reason she had achieved what she had. He admired her for it, because he struggled to be optimistic himself. 

“Shall we go back to the house? We still have some time before dinner if you want to be alone.”

“I don’t need to be alone. And it would be rude to ignore...Sarek.” Even as he said the name, he knew he would not be able to call him that to his face. The man was still a virtual stranger. 

“Well, he’s probably still in the guest room anyway. He said he has some things to do.” Malar stood up, then helped him to his feet. They dusted the sand off themselves and she placed his hand on her shoulder. 

“You know,” she said as they began walking, “Naalem said he thought Sarek looked like you, or you looked like him. I thought he just meant it in a generic way, you know how they say that all Ursai look alike? You both have pointed ears, you look alike, right?” She laughed. “But I noticed it when he and I were waiting for you.”

“Really? What does he look like?” He’d had a vague image of an older Vulcan man in his mind. It was strange how the mind created an image of a face he had never seen.

“Kind of like you. His hair is gray, but it looks like it used to be dark, so kind of like a darker, older, you. You look more like him than your father. You have a similar expression. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. You’ll be able to see for yourself soon.”  
Back at the house, Losha sat with Malar as she first contacted Naalem’s school, then Naalem himself. 

“We’re going to Vulcan!” He gushed.

“Yes.” Losha found more and more that he was at a loss for words. Maybe he did need time alone. It would have to wait though.

“Aren’t you happy, Losha?” Naalem asked.

“Yes, I’m happy, Naalem.” He forced a smile. He didn’t feel happy, but Naalem wouldn’t understand that. He would tell Naalem about his father’s death, but he would do it in person, not over the comm. He didn’t plan on telling him about his relationship to Ambassador Sarek. Perhaps the ambassador hadn’t wanted him telling anyone. He hadn’t said that, but he knew Vulcans preferred privacy. It was one thing that his father had found illogical and frustrating. Not telling Malar was out of the question though. He’d had to tell someone.

“I knew Ambassador Sarek would find a way to help you.”

“How did you know that, Naalem?” Malar asked. 

“His wife said he would. And Dr. Naik said she was going to help too. And I think Dr. Dvir wanted to help too. Even though Vulcans are serious, I think she cared.”

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, Naalem.”


	33. Chapter 33

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

Malar wasn’t used to awkward situations. She had always been bold and from Joa and from her travels both on Senes and on other planets, she had learned to be less blunt and intimidating when a situation called for more subtlety. Consequently, she was able to carry on a conversation with just about anyone. It was no different with Sarek. She knew Vulcans had a reputation for being intimidating, and though she understood why, she did not find them so. Sarek was one of only a handful of Vulcans she had ever encountered on her travels, and she treated him as she would anyone else. He had a superior intellect and as an ambassador, was no doubt considered an important person, but to her, all people were just people. She found titles and pretenses vacuous. She had no doubt that she would have had a perfectly easy conversation with Sarek that night had it not been for Losha.

After their comm conversation with Naalem, she had left Losha alone in the living room while she packed her things and worked on something on her padd. Betal was busy packing Losha’s things in his room. He hadn’t wanted to accompany her, saying that whatever she packed would be fine. Malar hoped the time alone, though brief, would be beneficial to him. He wouldn’t have much time to himself in the next few weeks. 

Sarek had come down from the guest room not long before the time she had advised him was customary for dinner. Though she generally preferred home cooked meals, several years ago she’d splurged on a very high-tech replicator that was programmed to create dishes from all over the galaxy. She liked to sample local cuisines before visiting countries and planets and it helped her make recommendations to her clients when she booked their trips. It was also nice to be able to have Deltan fruit salad, or at least something that closely resembled it, any time she wanted it. She wasn’t sure that Sarek had ever eaten Hakaran or any Seenan food, so she’d instructed her housekeeper, Katas, to program a full Vulcan meal.

She’d known from Losha’s father that Vulcans ate in silence, though he’d forgone that tradition on several occasions when she’d dined with them. He’d said he was comfortable following local customs, though she wasn’t sure Sarek would be. She didn’t relish the thought of eating in silence, but decided she might as well get used to it since she would be spending time on Vulcan. For Hakarans, meals were a time to catch up with family and friends and often they were events that went on for hours, the food sometimes being a distraction from the conversation. To sit at a table in silence was weird, though compared to some of the bizarre customs she had encountered on other planets, she supposed it wasn’t that weird. 

She found the Vulcan food palatable - it was not awful or inedible, though not particularly remarkable either. Perhaps this was just because it was replicated. Sarek seemed to find it acceptable. Throughout dinner, she did her best to remain silent, though the tension was palpable to her. Did Sarek and Losha feel it too? She and Losha never ate it in silence. And tonight Losha wasn’t eating at all. She couldn’t imagine that it was the food - he wasn’t a picky eater and ate just about anything aside from animal products without complaint. He was actually a far less picky eater than she was. Granted, he had eaten very little immediately following the accident, but his appetite had returned in recent weeks. She assumed he was in shock. 

She was pretty shocked herself. She’d known that Ambassador Sarek and the doctors on Deep Space Four had been working to find a way for Losha to have surgery, and she’d been hopeful. She dreaded to think about the possibility of him being blind permanently. But to learn in one day that he was free to return to Vulcan for surgery, that his father was dead, and that Ambassador Sarek was his grandfather was certainly something neither she nor Losha could have ever expected to hear. She knew that Losha had considered the possibility that something had happened to his father, that he was dead even, but actual confirmation of this was not something anyone could adequately prepare for. 

She knew nothing of Sarek’s situation with Losha’s father, aside from what Losha had told her, which was that he had no contact with him since he had left Vulcan all those years ago. Perhaps the older man had been relieved to see his son go, and wanted nothing more to do with him. Perhaps, as Losha thought, discovering that Losha was his grandson was an unpleasant reminder for him. But as she’d told Losha, he was willing to help, and that had to mean something as far as she was concerned. Vulcans suppressed their emotions, but clearly they had them. She knew that well enough from Losha and his father and though she knew that people were capable of controlling emotions (Losha had become very good at that), no one could will them out of existence. She couldn’t imagine that Sarek felt nothing. Still, she was not familiar enough with Vulcans or with Sarek specifically to be certain to what degree he felt anything. 

She wanted to insist that Losha eat something, because if she insisted, he would. But she did not want to put him on the spot nor break the silence of the meal, so she held her tongue. She was surprised then, when Sarek was the one to speak.

“You need not consume Vulcan food on my account,” he said, noticing that Losha had not touched the food Betal had cut for him. “I realize you may be unfamiliar with it and, as such, it may not be to your liking.”

“It’s not the food,” Losha replied. “I’m just not hungry. I had a big lunch.” Malar shot him a look, forgetting that he wouldn’t see it. He’d hardly eaten all day - he had been anxious about Sarek’s impending arrival and the news he’d bring. Sarek, apparently, had not failed to notice the look intended for Losha.

“I see. In any case, I would not be offended if you preferred something else.”

“I understand. I’m really not picky. I look forward to trying the foods on Vulcan.” Losha’s words sounded forced, but as Sarek did not know him well, Malar was unsure whether he could detect this or if he took them at face value.

She and Sarek finished eating in what was to her an uncomfortable silence. After she cleared the table, Betal served them some Vulcan tea. Malar knew that it was acceptable to speak during tea, so she attempted to get past the awkwardness by engaging Losha and Sarek in conversation. Losha did not make it easy - he seemed determined to say as little as possible, which was very unlike him. She made conversation by having Sarek repeat the details of the trip for Losha’s benefit. 

They would pick up Naalem in Undaa the following morning and then leave for Deep Space Four. There were no difficulties making arrangements for that part of the journey as ships departed Senes for the station several times a day. After the six and half hour trip to Deep Space Four, they would have to wait four days for a ship to take them to Vulcan. Sarek offered them the option of remaining on Senes a few days longer, though he had to return to the station himself. Malar thought it might be better for Losha to spend some time alone, but he was anxious to leave as soon as possible, as if he feared something might prevent him from getting to the station in time to catch the ship to Vulcan.

Though it was much earlier than he would normally retire, Losha declared that he was tired and wished to rest not long after dinner. Sarek returned to the guest room to meditate. Malar went to her own room and grabbed the padd she had been working on earlier. She made sure Losha’s door was closed before walking further down the hallway to the guest room where Sarek was staying. Losha could probably hear her, but she knew he wouldn’t come out of his room to ask her any questions. At least not right away.

She knocked quietly on Sarek’s door, and a moment later he opened it.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sarek. I just wanted to give you this.” She held out the padd to him.

“You haven’t disturbed me. I have not yet begun my evening meditation. What is it?” He looked at the padd quizzically as he took it from her.

“It’s just some pictures I thought you might be interested to see. Just some pictures I’ve taken over the years of Losha, and a few of his father. You can keep the padd as long as you want. It’s just an old one I had laying around.” 

As Sarek continued to stare at the padd, Malar felt that perhaps she might have made a mistake in offering these to Sarek. Perhaps he had no interest in seeing them. Perhaps it had been too forward of her. Under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn’t have been bothered by being too forward, except that she didn’t want to damage any potential for a relationship between Sarek and Losha. She decided to offer him an out.

“Of course, you need not look at them if you prefer not to. It was just a thought I had. I don’t know enough about Vulcans to know if you even take pictures. I know you have excellent memories so perhaps you don’t need to.” Sarek looked up at her and Malar got the strange impression that he was actually amused by her comment. Yes, the look in his eyes and upon his face clearly seemed to indicate amusement. Perhaps Vulcans did not suppress their emotions to the degree Losha believed.

“While it is true that Vulcans have superior memories to many species, the widespread belief that we have perfect or ‘photographic’ memories is false. The brain has no need to retain every detail one has read or seen. Much of it is simply clutter. Vulcans, like most species, take pictures for a variety of reasons, among them to retain a reminder of something or someone. And as these are not pictures that I took, I obviously have no memory of the circumstances under which they were taken.” He paused and looked down at the padd again before looking back at her. “Thank you for sharing them with me.” 

“You’re welcome.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Good night again,” she said, and turned back down the hall.


	34. Chapter 34

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.287

Sarek looked down at the padd Malar had given him. It would have been rude to refuse it. Vulcans did take and keep photographs, but to look at these now would be an emotional act. He could not deny that he was curious, but he had not been prepared to look at pictures of Sybok. Losha was alive and whatever their relationship turned out to be, they were currently little more than strangers, so had the pictures been only of him, he would have satisfied his curiosity. But now was not the time to be confronted with pictures of his older son. Apart from the video detailing Sybok’s demands after he had taken hostages on Nimbus III, Sarek had seen nothing of Sybok since had left Vulcan. He preferred not to think of the events on Nimbus III, but realized he would likely have to repeat some of the details to Losha. 

Amanda would want to see the photographs. He would give the padd to her at some point, but not until he felt prepared to deal with what would surely be her emotional response. Dealing with Losha’s emotions alone would require him to be centered. Strange, though, that after all the emotions he had felt from him on Deep Space Four, he had felt relatively few today. He was curious as to why, but in the end, it didn’t matter, and he needed to reflect on the day’s events before clearing his mind altogether in meditation. He tucked the padd into his travel bag. 

After changing into his night clothes, he sat down on the floor. It was his first trip to Senes and he found it to be an interesting place. He would enjoy seeing more of it, but it was illogical to speculate on whether he would have the opportunity to visit the planet again. After discovering that Losha was Sybok’s son, he had had little time to reflect on the matter due to the ongoing negotiations with Ambassadors Tala and Bareess. He had spent what little time he had had trying to assist Dr. Dvir with arranging an off-planet surgery to restore Losha’s vision. It was not until the negotiations had ended that he allowed himself to reflect on the situation. It had not been easy - Amanda had been eager to inform Losha of his discovery.

Thirty-six days earlier…

One of Losha’s jail release records indicated that his father’s name was Sybok. Though it was not an uncommon name, neither was it particularly common. The number of people exiled from Vulcan was small, though he was uncertain how many people left of their own accord. The likelihood of an unrelated Sybok leaving of his own accord seemed small, but he did not want to make any assumptions. He left his quarters for the sick bay, where Crewman Janda, the medic, directed him to Dr. Naik’s office. He found her sitting at her desk, reviewing information on her terminal.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Dr. Naik. May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course, Ambassador,” she said, rising from her desk. “Any good news about my patient?”

“Not as of yet, though I have no doubt Dr. Dvir will be successful in arranging surgery for him off Vulcan.”

“Yes, she gave me an update this morning. I just thought perhaps you had somehow managed to get him permission to travel to Vulcan.” It was an illogical comment - the Vulcan Immigration Service had already made its decision and would not bend the rules, even for him. Still, he found the doctor to be quite logical for a human. This could be the result of her choice in pursuing a field of study as logical as medicine, though the study of medicine had not seemed to affect the logic of one human doctor he knew, Leonard McCoy. Dr. McCoy was one of the most emotional and illogical humans he’d come to know.

“I am afraid that matter is out of my hands.”

“I see. So what can I do for you then?” She didn’t smile, but there was a warmth in her eyes.

“I have reason to believe that Losha may be related me. I was hoping you could take a genetic sample from me to confirm this.” 

Naik paused, a look of clear shock on her face, but quickly composed herself. “Of course. But your genetic profile should be in our transporter logs.”

“I prefer to involve as few people as possible. It is a...personal matter.” Dvir already had access to his genetic information, but he did not want to involve her in this. He respected her and knew she could be trusted to be discreet, but he did not want to involve other Vulcans in this, not until he was certain. It was illogical, he knew, because a Vulcan was less apt to gossip than a human, but Dvir had known him for fifteen years and was not aware of Sybok’s existence. She would not pry, but a human would not understand the shame involved in his son’s exile, and he therefore felt more comfortable with Naik. 

“I understand. Follow me.” She walked around her desk and out into the sick bay. If she wondered why he hadn’t gone to Dr. Dvir, she said nothing. 

“If another time would be more convenient--” The doctor cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Janda, you’re on break for the next thirty minutes!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Janda hurried out the door and down the hall. For being a woman who was small in stature, she commanded a great presence.

She walked over to a cabinet near where Crewman Janda had been sitting and pulled out some equipment. One was a tricorder-like device that Sarek was not familiar with, the other a clear bag with small plastic sticks. She slid back a small circular lid on the device and removed one of the sticks from the bag. 

“Hold out your hand,” she instructed. He complied, and she brushed the stick over the back of his hand, then stuck the end of it into the device. Next, she moved over to a terminal and entered some information. He watched the screen, though he had no idea what he was looking at. After a few minutes, Naik turned to him, an inscrutable look on her face.

“Well, your suspicions were correct.” She paused and turned her head to the side, as if trying to decide what to say next. “Losha’s genetic profile indicates that he is your paternal grandson.”

“I see. Thank you for assisting me. I trust you will keep this confidential? I will inform Dr. Dvir, of course.”

“Of course.” She nodded her head.

“I appreciate it. My son, Losha’s father, is deceased. I had not spoken to him for some time before his death and I was unaware that he had any children.” This was much more information than he wanted to provide, but he felt it was necessary. When humans didn’t have the facts, they often made wild and illogical speculations. It was better to be honest. The doctor had, after all, assisted him. 

When he returned to his quarters, he opened the file containing the notes from the last negotiation session. It was the file he had been about to review before he had somehow been distracted by the files concerning Losha sent to him by the Vulcan Immigration Service. He attempted to focus on the notes, but found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He soon realized he would need to meditate before he could accomplish anything further. 

He had pulled his meditation mat out from a drawer in the sleeping room and was laying it on the floor when he heard the outer door opening. Amanda had returned. She entered the sleeping room as he was rolling the mat back up.

“It’s not your usual time to meditate.” There was a puzzled look on her face. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if I’d known. I’ll leave you.”

“You don’t need to leave, Amanda. There is something about which I must speak with you.” While it would be beneficial to meditate before speaking with Amanda, as long she were here, there was little logic in delaying the conversation. He would doubtless need to meditate after speaking with her anyway, as he knew the topic would elicit a significant emotional response from her.

“Is everything alright?” The puzzled look remained, but she reached the fingers of her right hand out to him. He touched his own fingers to hers, knowing that she would sense his uneasiness, and knowing that it was unavoidable.

“What’s the matter, Sarek?” They each withdrew their fingers.

“I have something to show you.” He moved past Amanda to the desk in the outer room where the computer terminal was. Amanda followed, and he pulled up the file the Immigration Service had sent him. When he found the jail release record, he moved aside so she could see. Her eyes widened.

“Our Sybok?” She turned to face him.

“Yes.”


	35. Chapter 35

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.251

“You’re sure?” Amanda asked, rising from the chair.

“Yes. I had Dr. Naik compare our genetic profiles.” 

Amanda nodded. “Well, this certainly is unexpected news.” 

“Yes.” Sarek didn’t know what else to say. He had had no time to think the matter over.

“You know, Sarek, when I saw him that night in the observation area, when he smiled, I immediately thought of…” she paused before before continuing, “of Sybok. It was the same smile. And the look in his eyes...they reminded me of you. I felt for a moment that I was looking at a younger version of you. Different hair color, of course, and the eyes seemed grayish, not exactly like you, but still like you…” She drifted off.

“You did not mention this.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t have brought up...that subject. It was just a feeling I had, and I knew you would think it was silly, illogical.”

“Human intuition can be rooted in subconscious knowledge. Your intuition has proved right on a few occasions, as it apparently has now.”

“It was just a feeling. I didn’t even consider the idea that he was...that there was any possibility…”

“No, I don’t suppose you would have.” He took a deep breath.

“He didn’t say anything. Do you think he knows who you are?” Amanda’s face had born an expression of shock since their conversation had begun, but now it changed to an one of puzzlement. 

“I don’t believe so. I sensed a great deal of emotion from him, but when I first met him, I didn’t feel any sense of recognition from him.”

“So what are you going to do? Tell him?”

“Certainly.” Under most circumstances, it was logical to tell the truth once it was uncovered. Certainly there were times when revealing the truth would have negative or even disastrous consequences - his years in diplomacy had taught him that - but there was no logic in hiding the truth in this situation. Kaiidith. What is, is.

“So this has been in the files all along? I mean, the Immigration Service knows that he’s...knows who he is and they still rejected his application?”

“If they were aware of his connection to me, they would have contacted me. As you recall, I had to request additional information to learn the reason his application was rejected.” 

Federation databases indicated that Sarek had one child, Spock. Certain Vulcan records would contain information about those exiled from the planet, and it was likely the Immigration Service’s computer system compared the names of those applying to visit Vulcan against a list of exiles and criminals, but the jail release record was the first mention of Sybok Sarek had seen in the files. It was likely that the Immigration Service’s search program had only indicated that Losha’s name and birthdate did not correspond to those of a known criminal or exile. There would be no reason for an immigration officer to dig further into someone’s background under normal circumstances. Being related to a criminal or exile was not a crime. Sarek was curious, however, what other information the Immigration Service had uncovered.

“If you tell them, I don’t suppose it will make any difference?” He knew Amanda didn’t believe it would, but had to ask anyway. It was human nature.

“No. It doesn’t change anything. I will have to continue to pursue the possibility of surgery elsewhere.”

“I know you’re doing everything you can.” Amanda reached a hand out and laid it on top his. “Sarek, who is his mother?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked through the entire file yet.” 

“What else is in that file?” He was curious too. He hadn’t even had time to consider who Losha’s mother could be. Sybok had gone into exile alone. He knew others had been exiled both before and after, but who they were and how many there were, he did not know. Amanda’s hand remained over his. Though their fingers were not touching, he sensed her concern for him. She knew this was a difficult subject. He withdrew his hand from under hers and sat down at the desk.

“I will see if there is any other pertinent information.” Sarek scrolled through an arrest record, three other jail release and arrest records, and school records. Finally he came to a death certificate Losha, or rather Velekh, had signed on Stardate 2270.138, identifying the deceased as his mother, T’Amar. 

“T’Amar.” Amanda sighed. “Sybok had a friend named T’Amar. I bet it’s her.”

“He never mentioned a T’Amar to me.” In fact, Sybok had never mentioned the names of any friends.

“Yes, there was a T’Amar, and N’Evran, and Selon. They were classmates of his. His friends.”

“He never spoke to me of them.” Sarek sighed. “Of any of them.” He could feel the regret concerning his behavior toward his eldest son begin to well up. If only he had made more of an effort to know the boy, if only he had asked more questions. But Sybok had seemed well-adjusted at first. Perhaps that should have been an indication that something was wrong. He had lost his mother and then had had to leave the only home he had ever known to live with a father who was a stranger to him. He had seemed to be handling things remarkably well, and Sarek had been so impressed with his emotional control that he hadn’t questioned it. 

The boy, as Sarek would always think of him, had opened up to Amanda, but not to him. What could he have done differently? Despite his best efforts, Sarek had been unable to stop asking himself that question for some time after Sybok had been forced to leave Vulcan. The question came up again when Spock informed him of Sybok’s death. He did not want to repeat that experience again. With a great effort, his pushed the thought aside for the moment, knowing that it would likely come back again soon. 

He continued to scroll through files and records until he came to a birth certificate from Regulus V, confirming Velekh’s parents’ names as Sybok and T’Amar. But no patronymics were indicated, so who exactly T’Amar was, he did not know for certain. If she had been Sybok’s classmate, when had she been exiled? If it had been around the same time as Sybok, wouldn’t he have known? Of course her family would have wanted the details kept private, as he had. But surely if his son had been responsible for influencing someone else, he would have been informed?

“Do you know anything more about this classmate, T’Amar?” What did Amanda know that he didn’t?

“They were all in the same philosophy class. I never met T’Amar or Selon, I only remember their names. He didn’t tell me much more other than that they were his friends. He was happy to have made friends in his new school, and I was happy for him. I did meet N’Evran a couple of times, though neither he nor Sybok ever implied that there was any kind of relationship between Sybok and T’Amar. But maybe that came later.”

“You met one of his friends twice?” Sarek had neither known the names of nor met any of Sybok’s friends in the two years he had lived with them.

“Yes, N’Evran came to our house once. I told you that when you came home from work. He came home from school with Sybok one day. I made them tea and they talked for a while and then he went home.” Sarek had a vague recollection of Amanda mentioning that Sybok had brought a friend home from school, but only once.

“What did they discuss?” It came out somewhat angry, and he knew it, but he was unable to suppress his anger. Had Amanda known that Sybok had planned to discuss his beliefs about emotion with others and said nothing?

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, Sarek. They were talking about their class, as far as I remember. It was a long time ago.”

“You said you met him twice.” He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in this friend his son had had over fifty years ago.

“Yes,” Amanda sighed. “I saw him in the city once after...after Sybok left. He told me not to worry about him, that he knew that he was happy now.”

“You never mentioned that.” 

“How could I, Sarek? You didn’t want me even mentioning his name.” She was right, and he knew he was wrong to take his anger out on her.

“Forgive me, Amanda.” He stared at the screen, but no longer saw what was on it. The letters were out of focus. 

He felt Amanda’s hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing to forgive.” She squeezed his shoulders gently. “I’ll go for a walk so you have time to meditate.” She knew his emotional state was precarious and though he knew she would never think less of him for it, he was still ashamed.

“I’ll be in the bedroom. You can remain here.” He stood up and turned to her. She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.

“No, I’ll go take a walk to the observation area. I’ll be back later.” She held out her fingers to him. He returned the gesture and immediately felt an outpouring of love and care from her. He felt the urge to pull her into his arms, but resisted.


	36. Chapter 36

Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.288

Losha slept little that night. Though he was emotionally exhausted, a barrage of thoughts had assailed his mind and he couldn’t shut them off. His father was dead, and while he had suspected this was a possibility, confirmation was something he hadn’t been prepared for. Not knowing where he was and why he hadn’t contacted him had been unsettling, but with not knowing there was at least hope. Now he knew, and though he supposed knowing was better, it still hurt. Emotions that he had long since moved on from reemerged in a torrent he was unable to hold back. He couldn’t stop crying, and he cried not only over his father, but his mother, Kadren, and Vensar. He cried for Joa, who was still alive, but whose life was ruined, and for Naalem, who never had the opportunity to know his mother and had a distant relationship with his father. He cried for all the terrible things he had seen during the war. When his eyes were swollen and his head ached and there seemed to be no more tears left to cry, he lay there until he finally slept from sheer exhaustion.

He awoke to Betal knocking on his door a few hours later. Usually he would make his way downstairs on his own, where Betal would program the replicator and then assist him with breakfast. This morning they had to make an early start. He was exhausted, his head still ached, and he was hungry. Dinner the night before with Ambassador Sarek had been awkward. Vulcans did not touch their food with their hands at all, and while in Hakar it was acceptable to eat certain foods with the hands, blindness had forced him to touch almost everything on his plate. He didn’t care if Malar or Betal saw him holding down a piece of food with one hand and sticking a fork into with the other, or simply picking the food up directly from his plate, but he didn’t want Sarek to see him do it. Not being able to see also meant that eating had become messier, and he was constantly having to wipe his hands and face. He could have had Betal feed him, but being treated like a baby would have been even more humiliating. Instead, he had decided not to skip dinner. He had Betal give him a hypospray injection for his headache and bring breakfast directly to his room.

After he finished, she set out some clothes and left him to get ready on his own. The laser razor was easy enough to use and though he couldn’t see the end result, he could feel it. Betal would let him know if he had missed a spot. The water temperature in the shower was preprogrammed and he only had to press a button to turn it on and off. He was determined to do as much as possible on his own. He made his way into the living room after he was done getting ready, and heard footsteps approaching as he sat down on a sofa.

“Come into the dining room. Katas is getting breakfast ready.” Malar’s voice came in from the hallway.

“Betal already brought me something.”

“At least come and have something to drink.” Then, lowering her voice, she added, “Don’t be rude to our guest.” She was right, he didn’t want to be rude. He didn’t feel like sitting a a table - he and Malar didn’t usually have breakfast together as they typically got up at different times - but it would not have been right to leave Malar and Sarek dining alone. 

Although it was mostly silent, breakfast seemed less awkward than dinner had been, mostly because Losha was so tired that he could think of little else. His headache was gone now, but his eyes felt swollen and he wondered if Malar and Sarek noticed. 

Despite the bumpy ride into Undaa, he fell asleep shortly after they left the house and didn’t awaken until the car stopped at Naalem’s school. He felt even more exhausted than before, but Naalem’s enthusiasm kept him awake for the remainder of the trip to the spaceport. He said little, though, only answering Naalem’s flurry of questions. He was grateful that both Naalem’s and Malar’s outgoing personalities meant that he was not forced to speak in order to break an awkward silence. He didn’t know what to say to Sarek, and was too tired to think about it. It was a relief when they finally got on the ship bound for Deep Space Four.

They, or at least he, Malar, and Sarek, spent the six and half hour trip to the station in the passenger lounge. Naalem went off to explore what parts of the ship he could, while Malar and Sarek, whom he did not hear talking, were presumably occupied with work on their padds. He awoke to the clink of utensils on plates a few hours later.

“I’m sorry if we woke you.” He heard Malar’s voice approaching. “But since you are awake, you can join us for lunch. What would you like?”

Truthfully, he was hungry and he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid eating in front of Sarek forever. 

“Kaaze.” It consisted of vegetables or replicated meat baked into a dough that was rolled up like a tube. He liked it, but chose it mainly because it was relatively easy to eat with one’s hands.

“What do you want in it?”

“Any vegetable kaaze is fine.”

“And to drink?”

“Tem tea.” He felt groggy, and hoped that the tea would clear his head a bit.

“The table is this way,” she said, touching his arm. He stood up, placed a hand on her shoulder, and followed her as she led him to a chair and table. He felt the table - it was round.

“Naalem is on your right and Sarek is across from you. I’ll be back in a moment with your kaaze.”

He sat down, but said nothing. What was there to say? Malar returned a moment later and sat on his left. Once he began to eat, he heard the others resume their meal as well. No one spoke, even after they had all finished and he was the last one eating. He wondered if they were staring at him and longed to eat quickly so he could leave the table, but didn’t want to appear to be inhaling his food. After he had taken the last bite of the kaaze, Malar asked him if he wanted anything else, and after he declined, led him back to the lounge chair he’d been sitting in. From the sliding noise the chairs made, he could hear Naalem and Sarek leaving the table too. 

“The chair is right here.”

“Can you take me to the bathroom first?”

When he was once again seated in the lounge chair, he asked his padd for the time. Still another three and half hours left before they arrived at the station. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, so he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Though he still felt tired, the tea kept him awake. He began to play the events of the day before over in his mind. Why had this alien killed his father? And why was some of the information surrounding his father’s death classified? He couldn’t imagine how his father had gotten involved with Starfleet personnel. Once they got to the station and he could speak with Ambassador Sarek in private, he would ask him.

There were many things he wanted to ask the man, but he felt paralyzed by awkwardness. At first he didn’t understand it. Though not as outgoing as a typical Hakaran, he wasn’t shy. He rarely had difficulties communicating with any of the various races of beings he met through his line of work. But he had had few encounters with Vulcans, and those he had met, he had only spoken with briefly and only concerning business. Would they place their finger on the padd to indicate the cargo had been received? That was about as personal a conversation he’d ever had with one of them. They were serious and unemotional and what kind of conversation could one have with people like that? 

He normally wouldn’t care about behaving “appropriately” in their presence, but he was going to their planet, and he knew he would stand out. Malar and Naalem needn’t be worried because of course they would stand out, they were aliens. But the Vulcans would see him as one of them, and would expect him to behave accordingly, and he didn’t even know what accordingly was. 

He truly appreciated everything the ambassador, Sarek, was doing for him, but he didn’t understand why. Why had he been willing to help him when he was a stranger? Didn’t Vulcans stick to themselves? Perhaps his human wife had persuaded him to help. He knew many humans to be compassionate people and Amanda had been kind to both him and Naalem. But now, was Sarek only continuing to help out of obligation? He did not think Malar’s suggestion that perhaps Sarek wanted to know him was accurate - most likely he had only informed him of their relationship because Vulcans didn’t believe in lying. At least not lying about facts. Besides, now that he was legally allowed to go to Vulcan, he could probably have uncovered this information himself. 

He couldn’t imagine his father growing up with Sarek, or any Vulcan for that matter, as a father. What had his father’s childhood been like? His mother’s? Did his mother still have family on Vulcan? He knew that she had a brother and a niece, a niece whom she was fond of. Were they still alive? He didn’t even know their names. He shouldn’t waste his time thinking about it. He would go to Vulcan, have the surgery, and then return home to Senes. Everything would be as it was before, with the exception that he’d no longer have the inconvenience of being a stateless person. Yes, he would get the information he wanted from Sarek, and then he could move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was at Dragon Con last weekend and had no time for writing, so I apologize if there are more delays with the next few chapters. I did get to see William Shatner, Jonathan Frakes, Marina Sirtis, Gates McFadden, Brent Spiner, Michael Dorn, and Garrett Wang, as well as attend some fun presentations and shows, including the Miss Star Trek Universe Pageant, which was won by Femme Khan. Speaking of Khan, yesterday I saw The Wrath of Khan on the big screen for the first time! It's playing at select theaters in the U.S. again on Wednesday, September 13 - find locations by going to fathomevents dot com. I have some free time today and I was planning to write, but the winds from Irma may knock the power out as she makes her way up here to Georgia. So apologies again for delays and thanks to those still reading.


	37. Chapter 37

Undaa, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2270.225

“It’s days like this that make me feel that I do not belong in Hakar,” Kadren said, wiping away the stream of sweat that was running down the side of his face. “And we’ve still got another three weeks before it will probably get any cooler.” It was the hottest part of the summer in Hakar, which had a considerably warmer climate than Ursai, where Kadren was originally from. “Perhaps today wasn’t the best day to come here.”

“Maybe one day you can go back to Ursai.” Losha looked up at Kadren. They were walking through the Royal Gardens, which lay to the south of the city. The gardens were attached to a palace and several outbuildings. It had been several centuries since any part of Hakar had been ruled by a king or queen and the palace was now a museum. The outbuildings were available to rent for private events. The palace museum had closed several months after the beginning of the war, but the gardens were still maintained by volunteers. 

In the weeks since Losha’s mother’s death, Kadren had tried to take his mind off his grief by keeping him busy. They had been to the few of the museums within the city that remained open, as well as to the city’s numerous parks and historical plazas. Losha knew what Kadren was doing and, at times, he’d have rather have sat inside the shelter and let himself be consumed with grief. But he was also grateful - he was tired of grieving and longed for a day when he didn’t feel completely suffocated by it.

“We could have gone back several years ago, after Yosal died. He was in power there for over forty years. But things are getting better there now that he’s gone.” Kadren smiled.

“So why didn’t you?” They walked past a large, semi-circular display of purple and blue flowers that Losha did not know the names of. Senes was still new to him.

“At first, we didn’t know how it was going to be there, whether it would be any better than before. And then, we just decided to stay here. We didn’t have any family left there, and this is our home now.” 

“So you’ll never go back?”

“I didn’t used to think that I’d go back, but since the war started, I have thought about it. I can’t leave now, of course, but maybe when I can leave, I will go back.”

“Do you miss it?” Losha hadn’t lived in any one place long enough to miss it much, but his mother had once told him that while one should not dwell on the past, she did sometimes think of the Osana Caverns on Vulcan. Losha himself sometimes thought of the ocean on Ivor Prime.

“I used to think I didn’t belong there anymore,” Kadren replied, “but I didn’t belong here when I first came either. It’s just a matter of getting used to things. I’m sure eventually I’d get used to living there again, and maybe one day it would feel like home again. But I don’t know. There are painful memories there, and maybe it’s best to leave them be. What about you? Do you think you’ll ever go back to Vulcan?”

“I’ve never been to Vulcan. I was born on Regulus V.” Playmates had frequently asked Losha about Vulcan, but, until now, Kadren never had. They were only just beginning to get acquainted.

“Your parents never went back to visit?”

“No.” A young man and woman walked past them, hand in hand, two of the few Hakarans willing to venture out in the heat of the day this time of year. The woman glanced at them as they walked past, turning her head behind her. 

“You don’t have family there?”

“No.” He answered as if by rote, by then realized this wasn’t exactly true and he had no reason to be untruthful with Kadren, who had done so much for him. “Well, I guess I do have family there, but I don’t know them.”

“Maybe you can meet them someday.” Kadren smiled again.

“No, we can’t go there. Do you know anything about Vulcan?” he asked earnestly. 

“Not much, to tell you the truth. I know Vulcans are cousins of the Romulans, but that they are peaceful. And they are great believers in logic.”

“Yes, for them, everything is about logic. They repress their emotions because they think emotions aren’t logical. Can you imagine living in a world where no one laughs or cries and everyone is pretending that they have no emotions?”

“Like robots?” Kadren asked.

“But robots don’t have to pretend, because robots don’t have feelings. On Vulcan, people are just pretending. That’s why my parents left. And they can’t go back - the Vulcans don’t want them there, because they didn’t agree with suppressing their emotions.”

“So they were forced to leave because of their beliefs?” Kadren stopped as they approached a stone bench that was shaded by a canopy of vines hanging over a pergola above them.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know that. Then they were in a similar situation as my family, when we lived in Ursai. But I had always heard that Vulcans believed in peace.” Kadren sat down on the bench and gestured for Losha to join him.

“Yes, there has been no war there since the time of Surak, over five thousand years ago. It is peaceful - they don’t believe in violence. But if you don’t agree with their beliefs, you have to leave.”

“What if you don’t want to leave?” Kadren looked at him quizzically.

“Why would you want to stay? Who would want to live in a place like that?” Losha had never considered that anyone who did not embrace pure logic would ever want to stay on Vulcan.

“I don’t know. If it’s a peaceful place, and it’s your home, maybe you’d want to stay. A place with no war for over five thousand years? We can’t go five years without a war on Senes somewhere.”

“I lived on a lot of planets where there was no war.”

“Yes, you are right, I think fighting is in our blood here. But still, I think I would like to visit a place where there was no war for five thousand years, even if the people pretended to be robots.”

“Then maybe you will go one day, and tell me what it’s like.” Losha hadn’t thought of Vulcan in some time, but Kadren’s questions were beginning to peak his interest.

“Would I be allowed to go there?” 

“I don’t know if Seenans can go there. You aren’t a part of the Federation.”

“But some aliens can go there?”

“Yes, aliens that are a part of the Federation.” Losha wondered what Kadren was getting at.

“And presumably not all of the aliens who go there follow logic and suppress their emotions?”

“I don’t know of any other people besides Vulcans who do this.” Losha replied.

“So they will let aliens who don’t follow their teachings visit, but they won’t let Vulcans who don’t follow their teachings stay?”

“I guess they don’t expect aliens to be like them.” Losha had never considered this before. Many Federation species (Tellarites came to mind) could be very emotional, and yet they were also Federation members and surely had to travel to Vulcan at times for business.

“And you have never been to Vulcan, right?” Kadren asked.

“No.” Losha stared down at his feet. The garden path was made of finely crushed tan-colored desert stone, mixed with a few larger pebbles here and there. 

“So you’re an alien. And so maybe you could visit. Since you’ve never been there, they couldn’t expect you to be like them. You’d be just like any other alien.” 

“They wouldn’t think I’m an alien. They’d think I’m one of them.” Losha did not look up. Kadren was trying to be kind, but he didn’t understand.

“Because you look like them?”

“Yes.” Losha began to kick the gravel back and forth in a random pattern. 

“But looks don’t mean anything. You could be a Romulan.”

“They don’t let Romulans visit!” Kadren was being ridiculous now. Romulans were enemies.

“I suppose that’s true. But my point is, I don’t see how they wouldn’t allow you to visit. You didn’t break any rules or laws there. You’ve never even been there. For all you know, you have family there who might want to meet you.”

“No, they don’t even know I exist.”

“Maybe not, but maybe once they did know, they’d want to meet you.” He smiled. “I know what that look on your face means. Yes, it’s true that I don’t know much about Vulcan. I only know that I will never be completely Hakaran, not the way someone who was born here is. Even if I had been born here, I would still be different, because of how I look. Most people in Undaa are used to seeing Ursai, but some people still stare. You know what that’s like. They stare at you even more. I used to hate being stared at. Then I decided that I liked it, that I liked the attention. But that didn’t last long.” He laughed. 

“If I went back to Ursai, I wouldn’t exactly fit in, but I don’t exactly fit in here either. Maybe it would be the same for you if you went to Vulcan. You wouldn’t be just like them and you wouldn’t exactly fit in, but how is that different from here? At least there you could walk down the street and no one would notice.”

Maybe Kadren didn’t exactly understand, because Senes was his planet, even if Hakar was not his country, but he did understand. Losha had never really considered that Kadren was almost as alien here as he was. He was used to being the alien wherever he went - he didn’t know anything different. But perhaps it would be nice to just be like everyone else. 

A memory resurfaced of him asking his mother to give him a sibling, so that they could both be alien together. He snickered, remembering that at the time, she had been ordering goods on her padd and he had thought she could order a baby from there too. He looked up from his feet and for the first time took notice of the garden bed across from them. The sign indicated they were succulents from the Minai desert. He wondered if there were plants and flowers like this in the deserts on Vulcan.


	38. Chapter 38

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.288

Losha sat alone in his quarters on Deep Space Four, his home for the next three days. Naalem had left with Malar, eager to show her the station. Now that he was here on the station, Vulcan seemed much closer than it had on Senes. The idea that he would be there in less than a week seemed unreal. For the first time in years he allowed himself to think of the conversation he’d had with Kadren in the Royal Gardens and others later. Kadren had decided that one day he would return to Ursai, where Losha planned to visit him. He never got the chance. Losha never imagined he would one day go to Vulcan, and now that he was on his way there, he felt Kadren should be with him. On the trip to Deep Space Four, he’d felt that he would leave Vulcan as soon as he recovered from the surgery. Now, he felt that in some way he owed it to Kadren to stay a bit longer. But then he thought this was a silly thought, and he pushed it aside. 

The door signal chimed. Naalem must have forgotten the entry code. He got up and made his way across the room. Doors on Seenan ships opened and closed by voice command, but Deep Space Four was old in comparison to most of the Hakaran fleet, which had been constructed in the economic boom after the civil war. Despite renovations, the doors here had never been updated. He supposed it didn’t matter to the vast majority of people who came through here who were able to see. Fortunately, the living space was small, with no obstacles between him and the door. 

“You forgot the code already?” he asked, finding the release button and hitting it.

“Losha,” came a familiar female voice. “Hi, it’s Amanda.”

“Oh, hello.” He hadn’t expected her at all. “I apologize, I thought you were Naalem.”

“I saw him earlier walking around the station with your friend Malar. They told me I could find you here.”

“Yeah, no point in walking around a station you can’t see.” He forced a laugh. “I’ve seen it before anyway.”

“And you’ll be able to see it again soon.” He could hear a smile in her voice.

“I hope so.” In reality, he had actively been trying to squash any hopes he had, fearing the worst might come to pass and that he would be bitterly disappointed.

“I hope so too. I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

“Oh, no. I was just, um, doing nothing.”

“Then I don’t suppose you’d mind chatting with an old lady for a bit?”

“Oh, no. Come in.” He stepped aside, and when he could hear that she passed, hit the button to close the door. “Please sit down.”

“I’ll sit on one of these chairs here, across from the sofa.” 

“Alright.” He made his way back to the small couch he’d been sitting on before she arrived.

“First I wanted to tell you that Dr. Dvir and Dr. Naik would both like to see you tomorrow. Dvir wants to go over some medical things and I think Dr. Naik just wants to see you.” He imagined her smiling as she had that first night they met in the observation area all those weeks ago. 

“I will make it a point to see them tomorrow. Thank you for relaying the information.” She hadn’t needed to come to his quarters to tell him this. Not that he minded - she was a kind, caring woman and now they were connected in some way. How strange.

“I know that everything Sarek has told you must have come as a big shock.” She sighed. “You can imagine it was a big shock for us too.”

“Yes.”

“Sarek has told me that you didn’t know…” she trailed off, then resumed, “that you didn’t know what had happened to...your father. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry about that. And to offer my condolences.”

“Thank you.” The words came out automatically, without feeling. Though he had spent most of the previous night crying over it, the idea that his father was dead still didn’t seem real. 

“We’ve known for several years. So we’ve had more time to...to accept it. I’m sorry that you had learn about it under these circumstances.”

“Thank you.” No, none of it seemed real. 

“I don’t know what your relationship with him was like, and I’m not asking you to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I wanted you to know that I cared for him, and I missed him when he left us. And it was a shock to me too, when I learned that he had died.”

“I didn’t know you knew him.” Losha really hadn’t expected that.

“Yes, he came to live with us when he was a teenager. After his mother died. He was only with us a few years before...before he had to leave Vulcan, but I enjoyed his company. I never stopped thinking about him.” She paused and sighed before continuing. “I’m sure you must be overwhelmed with everything, I can only imagine. So if there is anything you need, please let us know.”

“I appreciate it, and everything your husband has done for me. He has done more than enough already. I don’t need anything, but thank you.”

“You know there are things Sarek can’t say, because he’s Vulcan. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel them. Don’t believe otherwise. He’s glad he found you.” 

Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. Losha wanted to say something, but found that he couldn’t. He felt almost paralyzed by emotion. 

“Well, I won’t bother you any longer. Just remember, let us know if you need anything. Anything, ok?”

“Yes, thank you.” He stood up as he heard her rising out of her seat. Part of him wanted to ask her to stay, to tell him more about his father. But it didn’t feel like the right time. And he didn’t want to think about his father any more at the moment. He didn’t want to think at all.

“You don’t need to stand up. I’ll see you soon. And don’t forget that Dr. Dvir and Dr. Naik want to see you tomorrow.”

Losha nodded in reply and heard Amanda let herself out. His father had never once spoken of his family and yet this woman had been his stepmother. He had only rarely spoken of Vulcan, and only when Losha had asked him about it. It was hard to imagine that he had ever lived there at all. He wondered how much about his father he didn’t know.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it and was unable to focus on the conversation Naalem and Malar had at dinner that night. The three of them were in the quarters he and Naalem were sharing and when he expressed his desire to go to bed immediately after the table had been cleared, they let him be. Naalem left with Malar. Losha was still awake several hours later when he heard him return. For the second night in a row, he got little sleep despite his exhaustion.

After breakfast the following morning, Naalem and Malar accompanied him to the sick bay to see Dr. Naik. As Amanda had predicted, she had no medical reason for wanting to see him, she simply wanted to see him. She was thrilled that he was going to Vulcan for the surgery and made him promise to stop and see her on his way back to Senes.

“Do you mind if I call Dr. Dvir down here now?” She asked. “She wants to take some more scans to send to her colleagues on Vulcan.” 

Naalem had no interest in sitting through scans and medical talk and declared his intention to explore more of the station, with a promise to be back in a few hours for lunch. When Dvir arrived a few minutes later, Naik excused herself to work in her office, leaving Losha and Malar along with Crewman Janda.

After completing the scans, Dvir asked Janda and Malar for a moment alone with Losha. Losha heard Janda opening a door, presumably to a lab or other office off of the sick bay. 

“When should I come back for him?” Malar asked.

“She can stay. Whatever you want to tell me, it’s fine for her to hear.” Vulcans were overly cautious about privacy, it seemed.

“Are you certain? This concerns a matter that we discussed briefly when you were last here.”

“It’s fine. Really.” He had long ago realized that Malar knew him better than he knew himself. He had once wished there were things she didn’t know, but he as he had gotten older, he had outgrown any feelings of shame. 

“Very well. I have consulted with some colleagues on Vulcan…”


	39. Chapter 39

Deep Space Four, Stardate 2292.289

“...and they believe there is a chance that some of the brain damage you suffered as a result of the narcotic could be repaired. This would include repair of damage to the parts of the brain responsible for both memory and telepathic function.” Before Losha had a chance to process her statement, Dr. Dvir continued. “Have you come to a decision about whether you would like to pursue treatment?”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “To be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever be traveling to Vulcan and when Ambassador Sarek told me I could, I only thought about my vision. What did your colleagues say, exactly?”

“They believe that stem cell therapy could yield positive results. I cannot give you an estimate of the likelihood of success because there are no recorded cases of telepathic damage caused by this particular substance. But the same treatment has yielded positive results in patients with damage to the same parts of the brain resulting from degenerative diseases and in some cases, traumatic brain injuries.”

“When you say ‘therapy’, what does that mean exactly? Another surgery? Or can it be done at the same time as the surgery to repair my vision?” 

“It would not require surgery. Nanites carrying the stem cells would be introduced intrathecally. You would then be referred to a telepathic specialist for evaluation and continuing therapy.” 

“What’s intrathecally? And how long would I need this ‘continuing therapy’?” 

“Intrathecally is via the spine. The nanites would be injected at a point on the spine and make their way to the affected areas of the brain. I cannot speculate on the frequency or duration of therapy after the initial treatment. That would have to be determined by the specialist. It may be anywhere from several standard weeks to several months or possibly even longer.”

“So it would probably require at least several weeks of therapy?”

“As I am not a telepathic specialist and you have not yet undergone the stem cell therapy, I am hesitant to make a supposition, but in cases of telepathic damage resulting from causes other than this particular narcotic, several sessions over a period of weeks is typically necessary.”

“I see. But they think it would help with memory?” This was his main concern. While he hadn’t given any consideration to possibility of regaining telepathy, he regretted his use of sur and kanal for the fact that it had caused memory difficulties. On more than one occasion, he found himself unable to remember conversations he’d had. Having to explain to someone that he had memory difficulties was not only an embarrassment, but was also a telltale sign that he was a former drug user. Though the sur epidemic had been rampant during and immediately after the war, many Hakarans still regarded those who had used the drug with disdain.

“The specialists believe there is a high probability that the treatment will improve memory function.”

“I’d regain some of my old memories, or would it only help with remembering new things?”

“I do not have sufficient information to speculate. I can arrange to have you speak with a specialist on Vulcan after we arrive. So you do want to proceed with the treatment then?”

“I...I don’t know. I hadn’t planned on staying on Vulcan for long. Do you know what would happen if I just had the procedure done, but didn’t do the therapy?”

“On that point also I cannot speculate. Therapy is usually a necessary part of recovery. But again, it is best to discuss that with a specialist.”

“Do I need to let you know now?” There were so many things he had to think about.

“There is no hurry, only the sooner you inform me of your decision, the sooner I can make arrangements, should you decide you wish to pursue treatment.”

“I understand. I will let you know soon. But I do have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“What happens to the nanites? Will they just stay in my body forever?”

“No, they are programmed to enter the gut and pass out of the body.”

“Oh.” He felt silly now. Dr. Dvir probably thought he was an idiot, but he knew nothing of medicine or medical procedures. “Well, I’ll let you know...soon.”

He and Malar returned to his quarters, and no sooner had he sat down than Malar began to speak her mind.

“You never mentioned anything about repairing your memory or the telepathic damage!” She was perturbed.

“Well, my primary concern was the fact that I’m blind!” he snapped.

“Losha, don’t be angry at me. I’m just concerned.” 

“I’m not angry at you. I’m just angry.” He didn’t even know why he was angry. All kinds of emotions were welling up inside him and for some reason they had come out in the form of anger.

“Why are you angry?” He could hear the concern in her voice.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting her to tell me all this. I’m not prepared to give her an answer.”

“What do you mean? It seems like a less invasive procedure than the brain surgery you’re having.”

“No, I’m not worried about that. But what if it takes months of therapy?” 

“If we’re talking about something that would improve your life, so what?” Malar clearly did not understand what he was getting at. 

“I don’t live there. I have to get back to work. I thought I could have the surgery and then come right back and get back to work.”

“It’s not like they are expecting you back anytime soon, Losha. You know that. So what if it takes months or even a year? Isn’t it worth it?”

“I’m supposed to just find a job on Vulcan while I do these therapies? I don’t know the first thing about anything there. And I’d have to find a place to live…”

“So is this about money?” She sounded as if she were in complete disbelief. 

“In some ways, yes,” he sighed. He’d been living off his savings for the past several weeks and had accepted the fact that when that ran out, he’d be dependant on Malar. He hadn’t liked the idea, but he’d had no choice but to accept it. His depression about losing his eyesight had overtaken all other thoughts at the time. But in the past few days, he’d envisioned life going back to the way it had been before the accident.

“I know you hate being dependent on other people more than anything, but you’re going to have to get over it. I keep telling you that. When are you going to listen?” He could hear the smile in her voice, but only offered a sigh in response, so she continued. “I’m sure you can stay with Sarek and Amanda as long as you need to. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would just tell you to get out as soon as you’ve had your surgery. I mean, you’re his grandson. And even if he did or you wanted to live on your own, it’s not a problem. Do you understand? It’s not a problem. Because I know you’d do the same for me.”

“But it’s not just that. I just...I hadn’t planned to stay there. I don’t want to live there. I just want to get back...to the way things were before.”

“Hmmph. Haven’t you told Naalem not to dwell on the past, because all that matters is what you do now, and what you make of things? And since when have you ever wanted things to go back to the way they were before? You can’t even stand being in the same place for more than a few months. Or is that it? You don’t think you can stand to be in one place for that long?”

“I lived on Senes for twelve years without ever leaving. And yes, I had no choice, but I could do it again if I had to. And before that there were times we lived in places for a few years. Sometimes I’m tired of constantly moving. It’s not that I mind staying somewhere.”

“Well, what is it then?”

He let out another deep sigh. “I just don’t want to stay there. On Vulcan. You don’t understand what it’s like there.” This was only part of the reason for his hesitation, but he didn’t feel he could adequately express some of his other feelings. All his emotions felt jumbled up - hope, fear, anticipation, anger, worry, and others he couldn’t identify.

“Take your own advice and hold off judgment until you are able make an informed decision.” 

Malar was right, of course, but how could he explain his hesitation when he didn’t completely understand it himself? He knew it wasn’t entirely rational, but that didn’t make it easier to overcome. She mistook his silence for unwillingness to discuss the issue and therefore continued on. “There’s something else you should consider too.”

Her tone changed from one of persuasion to one that sounded almost reluctant. “Even if you have to stay there a year, it’s only a year. A year isn’t that long to me, and I’m Seenan, which means if I’m lucky, I might live to 110, maybe a little longer.” She paused and took a deep breath. 

“You’re going to be around for probably another two-hundred years. Have you ever thought about the fact that you will outlive me and even Naalem? What will happen when we’re gone? Two-hundred years is a long time, and maybe someday you’ll want to spend time among your own people, people who will be around as long as you will. Now is as good a time as any to see what it’s like there. And if you don’t like it, you don’t like it. But I can’t imagine that you’d regret having treatment that would help you, even if it meant being stuck on Tellar Prime for a few months. You’ve lived in worse places.” 

He heard the smile in her voice again and a slight laugh and he laughed too, because she was right. But then the laughter turned into tears at the thought of outliving Naalem. When it came to Naalem, he hadn’t allowed himself to think of anything beyond the immediate future. There had been times when the thought had crept into his mind, but it was so painful that he had immediately pushed it aside. Malar’s death would be hard on him, he knew, but the thought of outliving Naalem was unbearable. He was an emotional wreck and he hated it, and that was what he couldn’t explain to Malar. If he could barely control his emotions now, being able to sense the emotions of others would only make things far worse.


	40. Chapter 40

USS Tycho, Stardate 2292.293

They had left Deep Space Four the day before and it would be another two days before they reached Vulcan. Losha had spent most of his time at the station and now on the Tycho in his quarters, trying to get his emotions under control. Malar had accused him of hiding, but it was only partly true. If he’d been able to see, he would have been as excited to explore the Tycho as Naalem was. He’d never been on a Starfleet vessel that he could remember. It was possible that he’d been aboard one as a young child during his family’s frequent moves, but he had no recollection. Booking passage on a Starfleet vessel was expensive - usually they had traveled via slower and cheaper cargo or transport ships. Since he had spent most of his time at the Seenan starship company working in the cargo division, he was particularly interested in Starfleet cargo operations and equipment, but as he couldn’t see, there was no point in exploring. 

He hated that he had spent most of his time sitting since the accident, but he disliked having to be guided around by someone else. He had let Betal take him for long walks on the beach in Orlyanal because there was no one or nothing around to bump into, but following behind someone on a starship with narrow hallways was more manoeuvering than he wanted to deal with. Since there was nothing to look at, he had often found his mind drifting off when walking with others and, as a result, not paying attention to their guidance. It would be a relief to be able to see again and not be reliant on others for something as simple as getting from one place to another.

But Malar had been partly right - he had been hiding as a means of avoiding Sarek. He didn’t know what to say or how to act around him. He was not a shy person and had interacted with other Vulcans before, albeit briefly, but now he felt embarrassed by his emotional distress. He realized it wasn’t just because Sarek was Vulcan - he would have been embarrassed for Seenans to see him in such a state as well - but knowing how distasteful Vulcans found emotional displays made it all the worse. He thought he had left all the anger, sadness, and anxiety of his youth behind him, and having it come back with such force was a struggle he hadn’t anticipated.

He also didn’t know what to say to Sarek because he didn’t know how Sarek felt about his father or the discovery that he had a grandson. He’d decided he’d behave as if Sarek were just Ambassador Sarek and nothing more. He was a man who was helping him and that was all. But there was something he wanted to talk to him about and despite the fact that his emotions were still somewhat raw, they had subsided substantially in the past day. It might be wise to wait even longer, when he was back to his normal calm, easygoing self, but for some reason he felt he needed answers before he arrived on Vulcan. The last thing he wanted was to have an emotional breakdown on Vulcan, where he could be ostracized and perhaps even exiled for his behavior.

So he asked Malar to bring him to Sarek’s and Amanda’s quarters. Sarek answered the door - his wife was apparently somewhere else on the ship. 

Losha took a deep breath.

“Hello, Ambassador. If you aren’t busy, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind if I spoke with you for a moment? Well, maybe for more than a moment?” 

“Certainly. Please come in.” He didn’t know whether he was reassured or uncomfortable by the fact that he couldn’t see Sarek’s expression or how he would react.

“I’ll just help him in and then I’ll be on my way,” Malar said as she began to walk forward. He followed her in as she guided him to a chair. “Call me if you need anything,” she said as he heard her moving away.

“I must finish up something I’m working on. It will only take a moment.”

“If this is a bad time, I can come back later.” He almost felt relieved. At the same time, he wanted to get it over with.

“Now is fine. I’ll be right with you.”

He heard Sarek moving around in the room and a minute or so later, approaching the chair he sat in.

“How can I be of assistance, Losha?”

“I know you said some of this is classified, but what can you tell me about my father’s death? I want to know what happened to him.”

Sarek did not respond right away, and the silence seemed like an eternity. In reality, Losha realized it was probably less than a minute.

“He took hostages on Nimbus III. He demanded a starship in exchange for their release.”

“What?” Losha couldn’t believe it. He knew his father did not think like anyone else and his behavior often reflected that, but taking hostages?

“Yes, he took three hostages. Starfleet personnel were dispatched to recover them, but he obtained control of their ship. He took the--”

“He obtained control of their ship?” Hostages and hijacking a ship? Could his father really have gone that far? 

“He was not acting alone. He had persuaded others to his cause.” Sarek sounded as if he were reciting a diplomatic treaty. 

“His cause?” Losha was even more confused.

“Are you familiar with the story of Sha Ka Ree?”

“Yes. Why?” 

“He took the ship where he believed it was located. He and his followers did not find Sha Ka Ree, but instead a malevolent alien entity. Your father realized his mistake, but too late. The entity killed him, but his actions allowed those with him to escape unharmed.”

“I don’t understand. Where did he think Sha Ka Ree was?”

“That is classified.”

“Well, that figures. I knew he believed Sha Ka Ree was real, but why did he think it was wherever it was?”

“The alien entity had been in telepathic contact with him. He had convinced Sybok that he was Oekon.” A small sigh escaped from Sarek.

“He thought the alien was God? He always believed Oekon was with him, but I can’t believe he’d be so easily fooled by an alien. You can’t fool him.” Then, realizing his mistake. “I mean, you couldn’t fool him. He could read minds. Like a Betazoid. But I guess you probably know that.”

“This alien was an extremely powerful entity, with the ability to communicate telepathically across great distances. His abilities far surpassed Sybok’s.”

“What did this alien want from him?”

“That is also classified.”

“I see.” he sighed. He supposed he’d never learn why all this was classified. “Did my father...did he kill any of those hostages?” He wouldn’t have believed it, but he had to know.

“No. There was violence between his followers and the Starfleet crew that was sent to recover the hostages, and, regrettably, there were deaths. But the hostages remained unharmed.”

“I can’t understand why he would take hostages. He didn’t believe in violence. And he didn’t need to take hostages. If he wanted to take over a starship, he could do it. He could convince people to do just about anything.”

“So you are aware of his use of telepathy to persuade and influence others?” There was a tone of surprise in Sarek’s voice.

“No. He believed in allowing others their own free will, but sometimes...He thought he was helping people. And maybe he was. He did help some people. I can’t say if it was right or not. I never had those kind of abilities. I didn’t understand what he was doing.”

“He never attempted to influence you in this manner?” There was definite curiosity in his tone. Losha was beginning to feel that the longer he listened to Sarek, he could actually pick out emotions, which surprised him.

“He would get into my head, when I was younger, when I was doing things I wasn’t supposed to be doing. But he wanted me to learn to make the right decisions on my own. When I was older, I resisted him. But he only wanted to help. I didn’t understand that at the time.” Losha sighed. I should have let him help me, he thought, but did not reveal this to Sarek. He did not want to get into a protracted conversation about emotion with him. 

“Thank you for the information, Ambassador.”

“There is no need for you to refer to me by my title. You may call me Sarek.” Losha nodded his head but remained silent. 

“You have no further questions?” Again he heard surprise in Sarek’s voice.

“Not now. I just needed to know...what happened to him.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll call Malar and have her come get me.” Losha reached into his pocket for his comm device.

“That’s not necessary. I can assist you.”

“It’s ok. I know Vulcans don’t like to be touched.” 

Losha actually preferred not to be touched in certain ways - hugs and hand holding made him uncomfortable - but he knew this was only something he had become accustomed to from childhood as a result of his mother’s Vulcan upbringing. But for him, it was only a preference, whereas for Vulcans he knew it was more of a taboo. He had no wish to disrespect Sarek, as much as he found the taboo somewhat odd. 

“Is that what you believe?” Curiosity. It was one thing he was beginning to pick up on easily in Sarek’s tone.

“It’s not true?”

“It is true that Vulcans are not as tactile as other races because touch is often associated with emotion. But touch not associated with emotion is often necessary and we have no aversion to it.”

“Oh.” 

“Of course, as touch telepaths, it would be an unwanted mental intrusion to touch one another on the hands or face without consent or forewarning.”

“I see.” That’s how it had been for Losha’s mother, but he said nothing to Sarek. His father, of course, had never needed to touch anyone to intrude on their mind.

“It seems you have some misconceptions about your own people.”

“Maybe I do.” Losha frowned. “But that’s because they aren’t my people. They were my parents’ people. But I am willing to learn. I certainly don’t want to encounter any problems while I’m on Vulcan because I do or say the wrong thing. I’m grateful to have Federation citizenship, and I don’t want to lose it. Maybe just tell me if there’s something I should know not to do, or to do.”

“You wish to learn about Vulcan etiquette because you fear losing your Federation citizenship?”

“Well, yes.” Losha smoothed his hands nervously over his pants.

“Your fear is unjustified. Your father was exiled because he tried to persuade others to abandon logic and embrace emotion. He desired radical change to Vulcan society and it is likely he used his exceptional telepathic abilities in order to realize this change. You do not share his abilities nor I do not perceive you to be revolutionary. Is that assumption correct?”

Losha didn’t quite manage to suppress a snicker at the utterly Vulcan way in which Sarek asked the question. “No, I’m nothing like him. I mean, yes, your assumption is correct. Like I told you on Senes, I don’t plan to stay on Vulcan. I certainly don’t plan to incite revolution there. I’ll leave as soon as I have my surgery. You have my word.”

He was surprised by Sarek’s response.

“May I speak to you on a subject relevant to our discussion, though of a more personal nature?”


	41. Chapter 41

USS Tycho, Stardate 2292.293

“Yes?” Losha supposed that whatever Sarek wanted to discuss with him that he considered personal, he could at least agree the discussion. If it turned out to be something he didn’t want to talk about, he was under no obligation.

“Dr. Dvir has informed me that her colleagues on Vulcan believe the telepathic and memory damage you suffered can likely be repaired. Yet she indicates you are uncertain whether you wish to undergo the procedure.”

“Yes?” It wasn’t quite as personal a topic as Losha had been expecting, but it was one he didn’t particularly care to discuss with Sarek.

“She believes you may have reservations about staying on Vulcan for continued treatment. I hope I have allayed any fears you may have had about your ability to remain on Vulcan? Or do you have other concerns about the procedure or treatment?”

“Uhh..” Sarek had not completely allayed his fears about remaining on Vulcan, but that was not the only reason Losha had not come to a decision. He didn’t feel he could adequately articulate his discomfort with the idea of spending an extended period of time on his parents’ planet of origin, so he decided to admit the fear he could rationally explain. He’d have felt more comfortable speaking with Dr. Dvir on the subject because she would likely have been able to offer a medical opinion, but he hadn’t, and he felt he owed Sarek some explanation, at the least. After all, he did seem to be taking an interest in his wellbeing.

“I’m not concerned about the procedure itself. It’s just that...You said that my father had exceptional telepathic abilities. Do you also?”

“My telepathic abilities are average for a Vulcan.”

“Can you sense people’s emotions?”

“Occasionally, if the emotion is extremely strong, particularly if the person is a telepath. But generally speaking, unless I am in physical contact with the person, then no.”

“Well, I used to be able to. During the war in Hakar, especially, it was...unpleasant. And now I’ve grown used to not sensing them. I do want to see if the memory damage can be repaired, but I am...concerned about what it would be like to suddenly feel all these emotions around me.”

“There are others with such abilities. With practice and discipline, they learn to manage them. A specialist can assist you with this.”

“I have to give it some thought.” Practice and discipline. Spending months or years on Vulcan practicing mental discipline was something he couldn’t imagine doing. Could such discipline even be learned as an adult? Yet he wanted his memory repaired nearly as much as his sight.

“Your fears of being overwhelmed by the emotions of others are not unfounded, but telepathy is an important part of existence for Vulcans. I don’t know how much of Vulcan ways you are familiar with, but should you have any questions, I will endeavor to answer them as best I can.”

“Thank you. I don’t really have any questions right now. And thank you for the information about my father.”

“There is no need to thank me. I advised you previously that I would provide you with the information when you wished it.”

Losha couldn’t hold back a snicker at that.

“Have I said something humorous?”

“No. Well, thanks...I mean, I will let you get back to your work now. Do you mind helping me back to my quarters?”

“I already stated that I would assist you.”

“So you did.”

Losha spent the next two days on the Tycho considering what Sarek had said. After going back and forth about the idea of having the stem cell procedure for what seemed like an eternity, the only conclusion he had come to was that he would come to a conclusion later. He would make a decision after he had the neurosurgery to restore his vision.

He was sitting in a chair in the main area of his quarters, trying to take his mind off of the looming decision by listening to news reports from Senes, when Naalem burst into the room.

“We can see Vulcan on the sensors now! It’s still small, but we can see it!”

“I suppose it won’t be long before we enter orbit then.”

“No, pretty soon and we’ll be there!” Naalem had all the exuberance one would expect from a child on his first trip to another planet. Since he had no planet to call home, the entire concept of a “first trip to another planet” was one Losha could not relate to, but Naalem’s enthusiasm made him happy.

Losha had been in orbit over Vulcan several times. Seeing the planet up close for the first time had unsettled him, and the second time he had actually tried to avoid looking out the viewports at it. By the fourth or fifth time, he no longer distinguished it from any of the other planets he had been prohibited from setting foot on. Though he could not see it now, the same discomfort he’d had on his first trip into the 40 Eridiani System began to arise. 

Much like himself, Naalem had been very curious about Vulcan as a young child. He had imagined that the planet of his uncle’s people was a better and happier place than war-devastated Hakar. But once he had understood it was a place Losha could not visit, he’d let his questions go. Losha knew he had done this not because he was no longer interested, but because he had always been very perceptive of the feelings of others.

“It must be exciting, going to another planet for the first time.” He smiled.

“Of course it’s exciting! I know it’s probably boring for you. You don’t even remember the first time you went to another planet. Going to another planet for you is probably like going to another city in Hakar for me.”

“I wouldn’t say that it’s the same as just going from Undaa to Eskanar, but yes, sometimes I’m bored of traveling. But then I’m bored staying in one place for too long too. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“So what you are saying is that you are bored of doing anything for too long, whether it is staying in one place or going from place to place?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s it.” It actually made sense the way Naalem put it.

“You’ve always been that way.” Naalem said it so matter-of-factly that Losha couldn’t help but laugh. “But this time is different for you,” Naalem continued, “because you will actually be able to go there.” 

“What are you most excited to see?” Losha hoped Naalem was too excited to care that he was intentionally changing the subject. Naalem was not aware of the conflicting emotions Losha had been experiencing the past few days. Perhaps he understood to a degree - he had expressed his sadness upon learning of Sybok’s death. But he had assumed Losha would be happy to finally visit his parents’ homeworld. Losha had not discussed with him the possibility of remaining on Vulcan for an extended period of time. He had also not explained his relationship to Sarek. Naalem had known Sybok and he’d felt it was right to inform him of his death, but he hadn’t been prepared to answer questions he knew Naalem would have upon learning that Sarek was his grandfather.

“People who look like you. And the Vulcan Institute for Defensive Arts.”

“The Vulcan Institute for Defensive Arts?”

“Yes, haven’t you heard of it?”

“I suppose I remember reading about it when I was a child. But why would you want to see that?” Losha did not remember reading that the Vulcan Institute for Defensive Arts was located in a building of any architectural significance. Surely it would be more interesting to see the Temple of T’Panit or the Temple of Amonak, or the natural beauty of the Osana caverns or the Fire Plains. Those were names that stood out to him from his childhood.

“Because every day at midday they perform demonstrations in the courtyard for the public. One day it’s archery, one day it’s fighting with this thing called a lirpa, one day it’s martial arts. Every day it’s something different.” 

“I didn’t realize you were so interested in archery or martial arts.” Naalem occasionally played rahava, a sport that involved throwing a ball at opponents, but had never been particularly interested in sports, preferring instead to read or play games on his padd. Losha understood, since he did not care for sports himself, but he often felt that Naalem spent too much time playing games on his padd and wished he were more interested in something that involved physical activity. 

“I wasn’t. But I found these videos and it looks really cool. There’s a guy there named Tuvok who’s been undefeated for nine years in this one type of defense art called ponn-ifla? Have you ever heard of it?”

“Yes,” Losha said. A memory stirred within him. “Yes, I have.”


	42. Chapter 42

Undaa, Hakar, Senes Stardate 2281.73

The night his father returned to Senes, Losha had left the apartment, unable to face the onslaught of emotions Sybok’s arrival had brought on. He’d found some acquaintances hanging out in an area known as The Triangle and had gotten high. Though his friends had tried to persuade him to stay out longer, he’d made certain to arrive home before dawn. 

The apartment was still - Sybok was apparently still asleep and had not noticed his absence. It would be several hours before the drug wore off and Losha was able to sleep. He lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling completely content. Thoughts of his mother’s death, his father’s absence, and the war and all its misery no longer troubled him. He was happy. The war was over, his father had returned, and it was time for a new beginning. 

When he awoke in the early afternoon, it was with all the agony of withdrawal. Though not physically addictive, coming down from a sur high was emotionally devastating. He had gone from the feeling of pure ecstasy, to one of extreme despair. He felt entirely alone and was unable to stop from crying. He didn’t even know why he was crying, his mind felt completely empty. This is what kept people hooked on sur - unable to cope with depression that eventually replaced the high, they sought to get high again. 

Losha did his best to compose himself and left the bedroom. 

“You missed breakfast. Are you hungry?” Sybok glanced over at him from the couch, apparently not noticing anything amiss.

“No. I’ll just get some water.” It would be a day or two before his appetite returned. He supposed he’d have to force himself to eat sooner than that so as not to arouse Sybok’s suspicions, but the thought of eating now made him nauseated. 

He returned to the living room and sat down in a chair diagonal to Sybok, placing his glass of water on the low wooden table. 

“You went out last night.” It wasn’t a question.

“You heard me?” 

“I heard you, yes, and I also heard you here.” He touched his index and middle fingers to his temple. Losha said nothing, so Sybok continued on. “You are using drugs to try to calm your mind, and you are failing. I know you are experiencing great emotional turmoil, but the drugs will only make it worse.”

Losha stared down at the glass on the table, ashamed. 

“Emotions, even negative ones, are a part of all of us. You have to accept that first. Then you can let go of them.” Sybok looked at him intently.

“I have accepted things. I have accepted mother’s death. I have accepted the deaths of others. I had to accept you leaving me here. You don’t know what it was like. I have accepted all of these things, but that doesn’t make them go away. I will never be able to forget them.”

“I don’t mean that you should forget them.” His father hadn’t changed much, it seemed. He had always spoken in riddles. My mother died when I wasn’t much older than you were when your mother died. I haven’t forgotten her, but I have let go of the pain.”

“You never told me that.” Losha had asked his father about his family when he was young, but Sybok’s response had always been that the past had been left behind, and no longer mattered.

“I wish we had all left Senes together, before the war. Then none of this would have happened.” It was the one thought that had been foremost in Losha's mind for the past eleven years.

Sybok sighed. “You have seen my thoughts. This is not the way I had hoped things would be, but the past can’t be undone, and I am here now.”

Over the next few days, Losha tried to convince himself that it was only a matter of time before his anxiety dissipated. He went through the motions, trying to act as if he and his father hadn’t been separated by eleven years of war and turmoil. But he wasn’t used to his father being there without his mother, and he wasn’t used to dealing with him as one adult to another. In his father’s presence, he still felt as if he were ten years old. He hated it. Even when he had lived with his parents, he had been an independent child - it was the only way to get by when one was constantly moving from one place to the next - and living on his own from such a young age had made him even more so. 

Speaking Vuhlkansu the majority of the time was also a sudden change for him. It was his first language, he would never forget it, but he found himself struggling to find the right words. Often they were on the tip of his tongue, but they eluded him. It hadn’t been this difficult when he had first learned Standard, or Haka, or any of the other languages he had picked up as a child. He wasn’t sure if the difficulty lay in the fact that he was now an adult or that his mind was damaged, or both. He began to feel isolated. 

“I’m going to see some friends tonight,” he told Sybok over dinner.

“Malar?” Sybok asked, putting his fork down.

“No, some other friends you haven’t met.” 

“The same friends you saw the night I came home?” Sybok raised an eyebrow at him.

“No.” It was half true. He didn’t know who would be at the Maysal that night. Perhaps some of the same acquaintances he had seen at The Triange the other night, perhaps not.

“Velekh, you think I won’t know when you lie to me?” Losha’s mouth hung open. “Where do you plan to meet them?”

“The Maysal Artists’ Colony.” Perhaps, he thought, his father might assume he was only going out to look at artwork.

“I imagine that place is still a drug den?” Losha looked at him with surprise. “I’ve lived here before, I knew the city well. I want you to be able to see your friends. But if your friends are all drug users like you, then you have to walk away from them. The drugs have damaged your mind, and they’re going to continue to do so. Don’t you see that?”

“The damage is already done. It can’t be reversed.” He had told himself this over and over. It was how he had come to accept it.

“You don’t know that. And even if your mind is never as it once was, do you want to continue to destroy it?” He heard his father’s words, but they didn’t sink in. He didn’t really care what happened to him, he hadn’t for a long time. Sybok looked at him, surprised.

“You don’t care? This place isn’t good for you. I know Hakar has been a home to you for eleven years now, but no good can come from you continuing to stay here. You have friends here, and they have been important to you. But they haven’t been able to help you the in the way that you need it. We can make a new beginning somewhere else.”

For years, leaving Senes had been all that Losha thought about, but now that he was faced with the possibility of it actually happening, he was anxious. He had lived here half his life, as long as all the other places he’d lived put together. Despite the fact that he’d never completely fit in, he was used to Hakar. It had become comfortable. But his father was right, it was time to get away from this place, to start over someplace else. Hadn’t he been thinking that just the other day? 

“I don’t want to live here forever,” he replied, “but I need to say goodbye to my friends first.”

“Of course.” Sybok smiled broadly. 

The sooner he left, the better. It would be so easy to get drawn back into a life that was comfortable, but destructive. Joa was in prison now, and Malar would soon be leaving to travel around the planet. She might never return. There was nothing left for him here except memories. He had plenty of other “friends,” but their relationships had no depth. They could be counted on for a fun time if sur or kenal were readily available, but lacking that, they were little more than strangers. It was something he had given a lot of thought to during his time in jail.

“Tonight I will say goodbye to some of them. And tomorrow I will find Malar and there is someone else...someone I must visit at Inz Raan.”

“Joa was a good friend to you.”

“Yes.” 

“I don’t sense any deception from you, Velekh, but I am concerned about you going to the Maysal. Do you have the willpower to resist any temptations there?” Sybok cocked his head, a look of misgiving on his face.

“I must.” 

“Then go.”

He had told himself it was only one last time, for old time’s sake. His friends at the Maysal had insisted. He’d truly gone with the intention of saying goodbye, nothing more, but he’d only put up nominal resistance. What was one last time?

Losha knew it was long past the time he should have gone back to the apartment, but he’d couldn’t bring himself to leave. Yes, his relationships with these people was hollow, but he felt comfortable among them. Moving on to a new life began to seem daunting. So he stayed, even as the sur began to wear off. His anxiety increased and he found himself despairing over the idea of leaving the planet where his mother had died and Kadren and Vensar had died. He was also becoming agitated and angry, though the anger was not directed at any person or thing in particular. He didn’t even know why he was angry.

He sat, back against a stone wall, staring at the stones that made up the wall opposite. Others sat against the walls as well, high or coming down from a high like him, not noticing him just as he did not notice them. A voice he recognized as belonging to Letaal was speaking rapidly in one corner. Why was Letaal always talking? Couldn’t he ever shut up? Losha’s anger began to focus on him. He was about to yell at him, to tell him to be quiet, when he heard footsteps coming from the outer room, the room that eventually led to one of the side entrances of the building.

And then suddenly his father was striding toward him. 

“Velekh,” he said, reaching down and placing his hands on Losha’s shoulders, “kal-tor's hal-tor, let’s go.” It was an instant reflex. Losha shoved him backwards, but Sybok maintained his balance, and took a step closer. He was too close, practically in Losha’s face. Losha shoved him again, hard. 

“Ri tor esta me! Don’t touch me!” He screamed.

“Think about what you are doing. This is not you speaking.” There was a pitying look in Sybok’s eyes.

“This is me!” He screamed. “This is who I am now! Get used to it!” The anger he had earlier felt at Letaal had transformed into an uncontrollable rage at Sybok.

“No.” Sybok took a closer again and as he did, Losha moved to shove him again, but before he knew what was happening, Sybok had spun him sideways, one hand pressing Losha’s arm into his side, the other holding his head down by the back of the neck. He would later learn the move was from ponn-ifla, a skill his father had mastered as an adolescent on Vulcan. He had no time to think about it at the moment, though, because he was almost instantly rendered unconscious by a nerve pinch.


	43. Chapter 43

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.295

Losha’s first impression of Vulcan was that the air was drier than that in Undaa. As for the temperature, that was still to be determined. It was evening and it seemed much like Hakar on a spring night, but he had no doubt the daytime temperature tomorrow would far exceed what was typical for Hakar, even during the summer.

When they’d first arrived at the spaceport, Losha had been struck by the voices around him, some speaking Standard and other languages, but most speaking in soft tones of Vuhlkansu. Aside from vague recollections of being in the company of his parents’ fellow ex-patriots when they’d lived on Earth, he’d never heard so many people speaking it at once. The Vulcans he’d encountered from time to time in Undaa or on his trips to space stations or other planets had always spoken in Standard. Occasionally someone had greeted him in Vuhlkansu in passing, but no one he’d ever had more than a passing conversation with.

Even now, he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to speak with anyone. He had followed Sarek, his hand on the ambassador’s shoulder, through the immigration line for Vulcan citizens. Sarek had done most of the speaking on his behalf and he’d only had acknowledge that he was S’chn T’gai Velekh. It was strange to think that he now legally had a family name. He’d always only had one name, whether it be Velekh or Losha. Some planets he had lived on as a child required a second name be provided and in that case it had always been “cha’Sybok.” Hakarans did not have family names, though many had multiple given names as a way to more easily identify them in conversation. 

After indicating that he was S’chn T’gai Velekh, the immigration agent instructed him to step through a machine which blasted him with puffs of air, ensuring that he wasn’t unknowingly carrying any non-native pathogens on him. Dr. Dvir had administered the necessary vaccines prior to their arrival and once he, Sarek, and Amanda had been declared pathogen free, they waited for Malar and Naalem, who were being processed in another line as they were not Vulcan citizens. 

Sarek had mentioned that though the line for non-Federation citizens was shorter than that for non-Vulcan Federation citizens, it often took much longer to get through as arrivals were questioned in depth. He had assured him, however, that as they were traveling with an ambassador, they should not be be held up for an inordinate amount of time. He was correct - it was perhaps only another twenty minutes before they approached. Dvir and Selar had gone their separate ways after arriving at the spaceport, Dvir indicating that she would meet Losha the next morning at the hospital, where he would meet with specialists and undergo testing. From the spaceport, it was close to an hour’s drive to Sarek and Amanda’s home, which Amanda had informed them was on the outskirts of the city in a residential area. 

After a late evening, through which Naalem was unable to get through without yawning, they retired to their respective rooms. Losha was tired, but knowing that he had to get up early the next morning made it difficult to sleep. He lay in the bed, wondering if his father had lived in this house, if he had been in this very room, slept in this bed. It was strange to think that he could be lying in the same bed his father had lain in fifty years ago. And what about his mother? Was she from this same area? If not, where had she lived? He wished he could see the house, the room, the houses and buildings around them. Hopefully soon.

He felt that he had only just drifted off to sleep when the band around his wrist began vibrating. How Vulcan, he had thought when Amanda had given him the silent alarm the night before. At home on Senes, he was accustomed to waking to music on his padd. At home, he would have lain in bed a few minutes longer, but he knew Vulcans were punctual. He was just putting his feet on the floor and feeling around in front of him when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“I’ll take you to the bathroom so you can get ready.” It was Naalem. He led Losha down what he presumed was a hallway and to a bathroom, where Naalem explained again, as Amanda had the night before, where everything was located. “I’ll be right back with your clothes.”

Losha’s first day on Vulcan was spent at the Vulcan Science Academy Medical Center undergoing an exam and further scans. He had wanted Malar to accompany him, so that Naalem could get to see a bit of ShiKahr, but Naalem had insisted. It was probably for the best - he wasn’t sure how the Vulcans would have reacted to a woman accompanying him to the bathroom facilities. Sarek had driven them to the medical center, though had left after Dr. Dvir had met them in the exam room. The doctors, nurses, and technicians all spoke in Standard - he assumed as a courtesy to Naalem, though perhaps Dvir or Sarek had informed them that he preferred it over Vuhlkansu. 

Vulcan efficiency was no exaggeration - they were done in just a few hours. Losha assumed they had nothing left to do but wait for Sarek to return, when Dr. Dvir introduced them to Healer Saya, a specialist in telepathic therapy. Preferring to discuss the situation with him when and if he made a decision to undergo the procedure, Losha asked Naalem to wait outside.

“Dr. Dvir informs me that you have some questions regarding telepathic therapy?” Saya sounded calm, yet pleasant. He also sounded young.

“I didn’t really have any specific questions. I was just wondering about how long therapy would be necessary, though Dr. Dvir says it can vary.” Losha wasn’t sure Saya could provide him with any more information than Dvir had.

“Yes, length of recovery certainly varies depending on the cause and extent of the damage. Though I have reviewed your records, I am uncertain as to whether I could give you an accurate estimate of the length of recovery in your case. Most of my patients have suffered damage as a result of traumatic brain injuries, a few from disease resulting from age or certain genetic factors. Your case is also unique in that you apparently had strong telepathic abilities yet little training in how to manage them. Is that assessment correct?” 

By only those few sentences, Losha felt that Saya had more personality than any of the Vulcans he had spoken with all day. His speaking voice had natural inflections. Perhaps part of his job as a therapist was to be more relatable to his patients than a surgeon or technician.

Losha explained that unlike his mother, he had been able to perceive the emotions of others, and she had thus been unable to assist him in managing those perceptions. His father perceived not only emotions, but also thoughts, and seemed to control everything effortlessly. He had taught Losha how to push the perceptions aside and he had succeeded to some degree, but once Sybok had left, and the war began, he had given up altogether.

“What age were you when your father left and you found yourself unable to manage your telepathic perceptions?”

“My father left when I was ten, almost eleven. I was fine for a while, but I would say that it was within a year after that that I found I could no longer adequately block out the emotions around me.”

“And this was prior to the methamphetamine use or concurrently?” Saya asked, a curious note in his voice.

“No, that wasn’t until later. Several years later.”

“That is not unexpected. Changes in the brain, including in the parts related to telepathy, occur during adolescence. Vulcans with average telepathic abilities will encounter more difficulties during this time - the brain is not fully developed until the early to mid-twenties in males. For females it is somewhat earlier. However, the most significant changes occur between the ages of twelve and sixteen. As I mentioned, even someone with average telepathic abilities will have a need to adapt during this time. When one has stronger abilities, the challenge may be greater.” Saya sounded excited - it was clearly a topic he was passionate about.

“After adolescence,” he continued on, “the mind becomes less flexible and learning mental disciplines more difficult. It is similar to learning a language. Perhaps that is an analogy you are familiar with?”

“Yes, I understand.” Though he was no longer as proficient in Vulkhansu as he once had been, it was less a struggle and more a need to familiarize himself with the language again, to re-learn certain vocabulary. He had studied a few of the languages spoken in the Norkan, Tarod, and Algeron systems as those were the most frequent stops on his work routes, but they had not come as easily to him as Vuhlkansu, Standard, Hakaran, and others he had learned as a child. It had been more of a hobby than anything else - a universal translator was always available and most peoples the Hakarans traded with were either Federation members or traded with Federation planets and thus knew enough Standard to conduct business. 

“But it is certainly possible to learn these disciplines when one is older. Most of my patients are not quite as young as you, though once one is an adult, youth does not confer any definitive benefit. It would certainly be easier for one who had extensive training in the mind disciplines as a child, but success is determined largely by the individual.”

“So it’s pretty much what Dr. Dvir told me - that it could be weeks or even months or longer.”

“Yes. I would be surprised if it were a matter of weeks rather than months, but as I have not started working with you yet, it would be premature of me to make that assessment. I’m sorry that I can’t offer a precise indication of the time frame.” 

“That’s alright. That’s pretty much what Dr. Dvir told me.”

“Are there any other questions I can answer for you?” When someone asked this question, it was generally to be polite, but Saya sounded genuine.

“And I suppose there is no guarantee that therapy will work anyway?”

“I have never worked with a patient who has seen no improvement. Some see better results than others, but in your case, once the damage is repaired, there is no reason you wouldn’t be able to master mental disciplines with enough time and practice. This would not be the case for someone with a degenerative disease, for example, but...well, that’s a different scenario.” Saya was clearly passionate about his profession. How funny, that a Vulcan should seem passionate to him. 

“I may not be able to stay on Vulcan for therapy. If I just had this procedure done and didn’t do the therapy, I suppose I’d just have to deal with it.” Losha was thinking aloud rather than seeking any clarification from Saya.

“That is up to you, of course. If you were accustomed to your abilities without extensive training before, perhaps you will become accustomed to it again. But I am happy to help you as much as necessary, should you decide to work with me. Your case is intriguing, and I feel the experience of working with you would be a benefit to me as much as to you.”

Saya entered his contact information into Losha’s padd and instructed him to contact him if he had any further questions. 

Losha had even more to think about. He hadn’t expected Dr. Dvir to arrange for him to speak with a telepathic specialist. It seemed that Saya viewed him as a sort of test subject, but Losha preferred the healer’s enthusiasm to the methodical approach of the other Vulcans he had encountered so far. Spending months on Vulcan training his mind wasn’t ideal, but Saya was far more agreeable than he imagined someone who specialized in Vulcan mental disciplines would be. And while Saya had not been able to give him a definitive answer about the length of time therapy would be necessary, Losha felt somewhat reassured that perhaps some of his earlier struggles with his abilities had been due to his age. He felt even less able to make a decision than he had before.

“I know you don’t want me to know,” Naalem said playfully when he entered the room a moment later, “but what did the telepathic specialist want to talk to you about? Can they fix that too?” Losha should have known that Naalem would not have missed Dvir’s introduction of Saya, even if he didn’t hear their conversation. 

“I will discuss it with you later, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My work schedule changed this week and it's going to be a bit more challenging for me to write one chapter a week. I'm going to do the best I can, but I apologize in advance if it's longer than that between updates. I'm making every effort to get this story done by the end of 2017 since it was my New Year's Resolution :-) I also have plans for a sequel in 2018.


	44. Chapter 44

USS Tycho, Stardate 2292.293

Sarek had returned to his quarters after escorting Losha back to his own. Their discussion of Sybok’s death had been only mildly uncomfortable because he had anticipated and prepared for it in meditation after their arrival on Deep Space Four. It had been the first time he had discussed the events of his son’s death with anyone. Amanda had been there when Spock had informed them of it six years prior, but they had not spoken of it. He had done his best to push it out of his mind altogether. Though he and Sybok had never been close and he had not anticipated seeing him again after his exile from Vulcan, it was acutely painful when a child predeceased his parent. He had experienced it once with Spock, and had not envisioned experiencing it a second time. The conversation had also been uncomfortable because of the onslaught of emotions he felt from Losha. How curious that he again felt them here on Deep Space Nine, but had not when they had been on Senes. He could think of no explanation. 

He also found himself somewhat irritated that Sybok had apparently filled Losha with inaccuracies about his own people. He had never understood his older son or his motivations. His younger son, being half human, had faced difficulties on Vulcan, particularly as a child. Sarek had never acknowledged them, because to do so was to give Spock reason to doubt himself. But Sybok had not faced those same difficulties. Sarek could not explain his eldest son’s behavior to himself, except to conceive that it had been due to his lack of presence in his life. He had had little choice in the matter - T’Rea had not wanted him involved in Sybok’s upbringing. It was illogical to find himself irritated by this all these years later. It was also illogical to be irritated at what Sybok had taught his son about his own people. Losha wasn’t his son and it was beyond his control. He also found himself irritated that Losha was hesitant to receive treatment and therapy for the telepathic and memory damage he suffered from. It was illogical to not seek treatment when it was safe and available. Why should this cause him so much irritation? Losha was an adult and had the right to choose for himself.

Sarek blamed the irritation on having had to deal with the strong onslaught of emotions from Losha during their conversation. Vulcan emotions were intense, and experiencing them from a Vulcan who was not able to master them was taxing. It was easier with humans and most other species. Human emotions were generally like a light ebb and flow: irritating at times, but usually not powerful enough to be unmanageable. Individual humans sometimes proved an exception, but this was not the norm. He had had a few dealings with V’tosh ka’tur, the Vulcans without logic, but as with Sybok, they had all been raised to follow Vulcan disciplines and seemed to maintain that emotional mastery even as they had proclaimed to disavow it. He could only compare what he felt from Losha to what he had experienced with Romulans and, to a lesser degree, Klingons and Tellarites. But even Klingon and Tellarite emotions seemed, like human ones, quite fleeting to him.

Sarek found himself irritated by the fact that he was irritated - it was illogical to feel this way. He did his best to suppress his irritation before Amanda returned for their midday meal. She was astute at reading his moods even without sensing them through physical contact. He had long ago learned that avoiding her touch as a means of hiding his emotions was ineffective. What’s more, if he refused her touch, she would immediately become suspicious. 

He did his best to push his mood aside and concentrate on some work, but it was in this mood of irritation that Amanda found him when she returned.

“What is it?” she asked as she withdrew her fingers from his. 

Sarek sighed. There was no point in trying to dismiss the issue

“Losha has been to see me.”

“I see.” Amanda frowned slightly.

“He wished to know the details of, --of his father’s death.”

“You hadn’t told him already then?”

“I hadn’t gone into detail. It seemed more than he was prepared to deal with at the time.” The truth was, it was also more than Sarek had been prepared to deal with too. He had assumed Losha had already been aware of Sybok’s death. He hadn’t been aware that the two of them had been somewhat estranged and that Losha was not involved with Sybok’s followers. It had been illogical to make assumptions, yet he had. It was a topic he didn’t wish to dwell on, so he changed the subject.

“He is reluctant to have the procedure to repair his memory and telepathic abilities. It is illogical.” Sarek shook his head slightly. “He is apprehensive about remaining on Vulcan for therapy. I reassured him that he is free to remain as long as he desires, but I believe he remains unconvinced. He is averse to remaining on Vulcan, in part, I believe, because of biases against his own people.”

“You’ll just have to try harder to dispel some of those biases then.” Amanda smiled.

“I am not sure what more can be done.”

“It will probably just take some time. He’s grieving, and a lot has changed for him very quickly. It’s no wonder he’s not thinking logically.”

He nodded his head and sighed as Amanda reached for his hand.

Sarek did not see much of Losha the rest of their time on Deep Space Four nor on the Tycho. When he had learned he had a grandson, he hadn’t been sure what kind of relationship he could forge with him - it was illogical to speculate. He had lost Sybok long ago and finding Sybok’s son only to lose him as well would be unpleasant. Losha may very well be the only grandchild he would ever have, but he did not know what could be done. Losha was an adult and free to make his own choices. Accepting what was beyond one’s control was an essential part of logic. 

Truthfully, he had not always done this. It had taken him years to admit it even to himself, but his refusal to accept Spock’s choice to join Starfleet had been illogical, and it had cost him dearly in terms of his relationship with his younger son. Though he and Spock had come to a superficial understanding, they would never be close. The damage had been done long ago. He wanted an opportunity to have a different kind of relationship with his grandson, a better one, but he did his best to suppress his desires. The past could not be changed, his relationship with Spock was what it was, and Losha was his own person. It was not logical or fair to project his regrets concerning his relationships with his sons onto his grandson. He must accept that, no matter how difficult it was.

He saw Losha a bit more after their arrival on Vulcan, but still he seemed to prefer keeping to himself. Sarek was unsure whether this was a personality trait or the consequence of grief and other emotional difficulties he was likely experiencing. Vulcan meditation and mental techniques could assist with that, if Losha were willing, but considering his grandson wanted little to do with anything Vulcan, Sarek did not suggest it. He would not admit it to anyone, even Amanda, but he feared pushing him away. Now that he knew his grandson existed, the idea of him existing somewhere out there, apart from him, was something he did not wish to experience. 

The night after Losha’s initial visit to the medical center, Sarek still had not come any closer to resolving his irritation. Dr. Dvir had had a telepathic specialist speak with Losha and Sarek hoped this would alleviate his doubts about the procedure and therapy. The doctor had contacted Sarek later that day and asked if he could inform her of Losha’s decision so she could update the colleague with whom she had been consulting. He advised her he would speak with him and inform her the following day.

“What are you thinking about?” The covers rustled as Amanda turned toward him.

“I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

“Don’t change the subject. Did something happen at the medical center today?” She rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing I haven’t already told you.”

“You’re worried about the surgery?” Even in the dark, he could see a look of concern on her face.

“No.”

“What then?”

“It is nothing I can explain.” He sighed and turned his head away. How could he explain to her what he couldn’t explain to himself?

“Show me, then.” Her other hand came to rest on his other shoulder. He turned back to her, intending to tell her it was nothing to concern herself with. As he took her hands to remove them from his shoulder, he found himself winding his fingers around hers instead. He leaned down to kiss her lightly on the mouth.

“What did I say about changing the subject?” She asked, pulling out of his kiss.

“I did not intend to change the subject.” It was true - when he had looked at her and touched her hands, he’d found he didn’t want to push her away after all. The kiss had seemed to happen of its own accord.

“Is that so?” She smiled.

“Yes.” He untwined the fingers of his right hand from hers and touched her face gently. He had closed himself off from her over the past few weeks, but he now he found he had missed the closeness they usually felt in one another’s presence.

“I will show you,” he said, moving his fingers into position.

When he removed them a few moments later, he realized that she had already understood what was troubling him. She had wanted to offer her support, but understood that this was something he wanted to deal with on his own, and hadn’t pressed him. And there was something else.

“He was not your son, but you are my wife, and this concerns you as well. Do not think it isn’t your place to speak on this matter. You knew him as long as long as I did. And, perhaps, you knew him better.”

Amanda took his hand again before replying.

“Then let me offer you some advice.” He raised his eyebrow and waited for her to continue. “You can’t deal with him the same way you deal with Spock. Or even the same way you dealt with his father. And I don’t mean to imply that you didn’t handle those situations in the best way you could at the time. But Losha wasn’t raised in the Vulcan way and he isn’t going to behave the way a Vulcan would. If you were dealing with a Vulcan, you would be right to accept c’thia. A Vulcan would do his best to put aside his biases and try to look at a situation logically, based on what he observed. Vulcans aren’t always unbiased, but they do try to be.” She smiled and continued on.

“You know we humans can have a hard time looking at things objectively when we are contending with our emotions. You sensed some very strong ones from him.”

“Yes.”

“If you want to connect with him, and I know you do, you will have to go out of your way to show him what Vulcans are really like. I know it’s not logical, but he doesn’t think like you do, like a Vulcan does. And you can be very intimidating. Remember what I thought of you when we first met?”

“I had hoped to forget.” Amanda let out a small laugh at that.

“And there is something I can answer for you, though you might not like hearing it.”

“I suppose you will tell me anyway.”

“Of course. You don’t understand why you couldn’t sense his emotions when you went to see him on Senes because they seemed so strong at other times.”

“Yes, I did wonder, though it is of no real consequence.”

“Hmmm...Well maybe you should think about that a bit more - think about how you were feeling at that moment.”

“Feeling?”

“Yes, feeling.”

“You aren’t going to tell me then?”

“I don’t think you’ll want to hear it from me. Some things we’re better off figuring out on our own.”

“Hmmph.” He curiosity was piqued, but he knew it was useless to pursue the matter further. If he didn’t figure it out, Amanda would eventually share her discovery with him. He did, however, determine that he would soon attempt to speak with Losha again privately. The opportunity presented itself the following day in the garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c'thia is the Vulcan word for truth/reality/the way things are. For a really good explanation of c'thia, read Diane Duane's Spock's World. It's my favorite Star Trek novel and despite the title, it's actually about Spock's world, Vulcan, not Spock. It tells the history of Vulcan from the beginning of time, and there are some really interesting original Vulcan characters, as well as chapters focused on Sarek and Amanda.
> 
> As I mentioned when I posted the last chapter, my new work schedule has really cut into my writing time. No one is more disappointed than I am - I really miss writing this story. I used to be able to sit down and write an entire chapter at once and that's just not possible any more. Now I've got to write a paragraph here and there when I can. So my apologies for the delay. Thanks to everyone who's still reading.


	45. Chapter 45

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.295

Losha had no intention of discussing the possibility of treating his telepathic damage with Naalem and when he had time to reflect on it, he realized he should have simply told him that. He was fairly certain Naalem would raise the subject again and he would be forced into an another uncomfortable situation. He had already had to disclose some of his uneasiness over the idea of staying on Vulcan to both Malar and Sarek, and it had been embarrassing. He hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since he was a child. It was like being back on Ivor Prime, the stares of the other children burning into him after they had discovered his blood was green. He could feel their stares then - is that what was in store for him if his telepathic senses were restored? Were the Seenans he lived and worked among actually staring behind his back and he just couldn’t sense it? 

Before the accident, he had been a fairly confident person. But that had all changed. He didn’t like who he had become. Perhaps this was who he had been all along, and he’d just done a good job pretending he was someone else. Perhaps the drugs had made him who he was and if his telepathy were restored, he’d go back to being who he really was - someone who was uncomfortable in his own skin. But that wasn’t true either - he’d managed to achieve a degree of confidence long before sur. He’d managed to forge friendships, however briefly, with children of all different races. He clearly recalled a conversation between Kadren’s grandfather, Orat, and his own father in which Orat had called him “the little diplomat.” Sybok had only smiled then and patted him on the shoulder. He had never mentioned that his father was an actual diplomat. He had never said anything about his family at all, and that made Losha’s current situation very strange.

After he’d returned from testing at the medical center, he’d spent most of the rest of that day on the couch in Sarek and Amanda’s living room, listening to Malar, Naalem, and Amanda. Sarek had had work to do and had returned into the city center after bringing Losha and Naalem back to the house. Amanda was eager to tell her guests about the most interesting things to visit in the area, which she hoped to show them once Losha had recovered from surgery. Sarek returned in the evening and after dinner, when the temperature had dropped, Amanda offered to take them on a walk around the neighborhood. Losha told Malar and Naalem to go ahead without him. 

Malar tried to insist that he go along for exercise, but he couldn’t be persuaded. There was no point in going on a walk when he couldn’t see anything and following behind someone was frustrating and tiring. Malar was right, he needed exercise - the more sedentary he was, the less energy he had. But knowing he needed exercise didn’t change the fact that he didn’t feel like he had the energy to do anything. The surgery was in two days and he’d have plenty of time to walk after that.

The following day, the day before the surgery, Amanda suggested going to the Museum of Vulcan History. Since many guests were off-worlders, the museum offered earpieces that translated the artifact and display descriptions into dozens of languages; Amanda thought that this might be something Losha could enjoy. He saw no point in listening to recordings of Vulcan history - he could do that from the house - but he didn’t want to spoil what he knew would be a fun time for Naalem, perhaps also for Malar.

Amanda seemed to sense his dilemma and offered a suggestion. Sarek was working at home that day and could assist Losha if necessary. He was hesitant to be dependant upon Sarek for any length of time, no matter how short, but the only thing he’d really need his assistance with was preparing lunch, and that seemed preferable to the museum. So he sat on the couch and attempted to listen to an audiobook, then news, then music. It was no use - with the surgery coming up the following day, he couldn’t concentrate on anything. 

A couple of hours later, he was making his way back from the bathroom, counting the steps until he reached the couch, when his foot struck something hard. He had misjudged the location of the table in front of one of the two couches in the room. He cried out for a moment and reached down to his aching foot, but then lost his balance and his back hit the arm of the couch, which was quite hard, at least when hit at that angle. Another cry escaped him, but he quickly stifled it. It was all he could do to keep himself from hurling an expletive. He rubbed his sore back with one hand and his foot with the other for a moment before attempting to stand up. Suddenly, arms grasped him from behind and pulled him into a standing position. He had become quite good at hearing others’ approach, but had missed the footsteps, no doubt because he’d been focused on the pain in his toe and back.

“Are you injured?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Just stubbed my toe and hit my back.” Losha paused before turning around to face Sarek, who released his arms from around him. “Thank you.”

“I am about to prepare our midday meal. It will only take a few moments in the replicator. Will you join me in the dining room?”

“Yes.” Losha waited for the sounds of Sarek’s footsteps on the floor - that would allow him to follow him reasonably easily - but he only heard him turning around.

“Place your hand on my back and you can follow behind me. That will ensure that you don’t misstep and fall again.”

Losha did as he was asked and Sarek led him to the dining room. The meal was silent, as had been all of the meals since they’d arrive on Vulcan. It was a noticeable change from mealtimes on the Deep Space Four and the Tycho, though he’d avoided leaving his room as much as possible during those times. The lunch was made even more awkward by the fact that Malar, Naalem, and Amanda weren’t present. Even if they didn’t speak, it was somehow more comfortable with them present. With no one else for him to focus his attention on, Losha also wondered if Sarek was staring at him as he held down some of the food with his hand in order to position the fork into it. 

Lunch today was a vegetable plate seasoned with a spice he recognized as redspice. It was a seasoning his mother had used when she could find it. Losha wanted to tell Sarek this, that he remembered redspice from his childhood, but he was afraid to break the silence. It came as a relief when lunch was finally over.

Sarek went back to working and Losha went back to the couch, again attempting to concentrate on a book, music, anything. He had been sitting most of the day and he began to feel restless - perhaps he should have forced himself to go to the museum after all. Since it was too late for that, he decided to go sit in the enclosed patio and garden area off of the living room that he had walked around in with Malar and Naalem when Amanda had given them a tour the day before.

The garden wasn’t particularly large and he had no trouble finding one of its two stone benches. There was a certain smell of plants - he could see them and discover which scents came from where. Since there was nothing he could look at, he focused on the sounds: a slight breeze blowing sand across the stone of the patio, the shriek of some no-doubt predatory bird high above, an occasional buzz of an insect. The late afternoon sun had heated the stone bench up considerably, but it was pleasant. It was definitely much hotter here than in Hakar, but with the lack of humidity it was not uncomfortable. 

Losha found himself having trouble staying awake. He was trying to debate whether he should continue to fight sleep or return to his room to take a nap, when he heard the double doors that led into the living room open. Were Naalem, Malar, and Amanda back already? He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there. But only a single set of footsteps approached - Sarek’s.

“Your father often sat in this garden, on these very benches.” Losha felt like he was being woken from a dream.

“He lived here then?”

“Yes, he lived with us here for over two Standard years.”

“After his mother died?” Amanda had said as much to him on the station.

“Yes.” 

“So he lived with his mother before that?” That much was obvious to Losha, but he didn’t know of a better way of asking what he wanted to know. 

“Yes.”

“So his mother was your first wife then?” He heard Sarek draw in a breath. He was probably being rude, but it was his family and now that he was here, sitting in the same garden in the same house his father had once lived in, he felt an insistent curiosity.

Sarek sat down next to him. Losha was beginning to wonder whether he was going to speak when he asked, “Are you aware that Vulcan marriages are traditionally arranged in childhood?”

“Yes. My parents were opposed to that. That’s one of the reasons they chose to leave Vulcan.”

“Not all parents choose this tradition, but it is still quite common. T’Rea and I were bonded in childhood. However, we chose not to marry. Consequently, I did not meet your father until after T’Rea’s death.”

“When he was a teenager?” Sarek had mentioned that when he had first disclosed their relationship to one another back on Senes.

“Seventeen point one Standard years.”

“So why didn’t you meet him before that? You didn’t know he existed?” Like you didn’t know I existed, he thought.

“I was aware of his existence. However, it was T’Rea’s wish to raise Sybok alone.”  
And Sarek just let her? What kind of man agreed to stay out of his own child’s life? It was now clearer to Losha why his father had never mentioned Sarek. He had also never mentioned T’Rea, but that was likely because he was didn’t want to be reminded of her death. He understood that well enough. And he now felt more awkward than ever in Sarek’s presence. It seemed that Sarek really hadn’t wanted to be a part of his father’s life, and he likely didn’t want a grandson he hadn’t known about either.

He said nothing and Sarek also remained silent for several moments. Finally, he spoke again.

“Doctor Dvir informed me that she arranged for you to speak with a telepathic specialist at the medical center yesterday. May I ask if you have come to a decision regarding treatment and therapy? She would like to inform her colleague who would be performing the treatment.”

Losha had thought he would make a decision after the neurosurgery, but realized it would be rude to keep people waiting, especially Vulcans. Doctor Dvir had been very considerate toward him. 

Knowing what he knew now about Sarek, the choice seemed clear. 

“Yes. I would prefer not to have the treatment.” The words came out before he had time to consider them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's still reading. I am doing my best to get this finished by the end of the year.


	46. Chapter 46

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.296

“I see. Then I shall inform Dr. Dvir.” Sarek had begun pacing on the stone ground. He is uncomfortable and wants to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible, Losha thought.

“Is there anything further you wish to know concerning your father?” he asked.

“No.” What else was there to know? He understood better than ever now why his father had felt he didn’t belong here.

“Very well. Do you wish to remain here or do you need assistance returning to the house?”

“I’ll stay here for a while.”

“I’ll be in my study, should you need anything.” And with that Sarek left him.

He spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, trying to keep his emotions in check. Knowing his father had lived here, had even sat in this same spot, was surreal. And as much as he wanted to be angry at Sarek, he found that he couldn’t be. Sarek may not have wanted his father in his life, but he had certainly done a lot for him. Was it purely out of obligation? A Vulcan sense of duty? He wished for a moment that he had his old telepathic senses so that he could have a better understanding of the man who was his grandfather. 

Amanda, Malar, and Naalem returned in the late afternoon, Naalem full of excitement. He rattled on about everything he had seen at the museum and was clearly disappointed when it was time for dinner and he had to remain silent. After dinner, however, they all retired to the living room, where Sarek answered Naalem’s questions with a patience that even Losha did not possess. He didn’t seem the least bit annoyed, but instead interested in discussing Vulcan’s history with Naalem. 

When Naalem had been younger, he had often annoyed Losha to no end with his incessant questions about Vulcan. Losha had given him some information, but made it clear it was a topic he did not wish to discuss. Then the questions shifted to other planets Losha had visited. Losha had no qualms discussing them, but often found his patience worn utterly thin with the boy. But Naalem was thirteen now and did not ask nearly as many questions as he had when he was younger. The boy’s excitement at being on another planet was reminiscent of his younger days. Losha was surprised at Sarek’s patience - he imagined that Vulcan children were taught to be seen and not heard.

Amanda also seemed quite excited to be a part of the conversation. Losha found it remarkable that such a vibrant human had chosen to live here on Vulcan. Even more remarkable, after all this time living here, she was still very human. Living on Vulcan hadn’t made her Vulcan in behavior, and yet Sarek did not seem bothered by this. Perhaps he assumed humans could not learn to follow the teachings of Surak. But that seemed illogical. His father had always told him that Vulcans were some of the most passionate species in the galaxy so if they could learn to suppress their emotions, surely a less passionate species like humans could. Sarek was an ambassador - perhaps the marriage had been for political reasons. But Amanda seemed genuinely happy. Losha wondered if her rejection of Vulcan teachings had influenced his father in any way.

These things crossed his mind as he lay in bed the night before the surgery. He was unable to shut his mind off and was filled with nervousness and apprehension. The surgery had only an eighty-six percent chance of being successful. Was it eighty-six? Or ninety-six? He couldn’t remember. He had been so focused on having it done that the odds hadn’t mattered. He knew is was more likely than not that it would be successful, but what if it weren’t? Knowing his luck, he would be one of those four or fourteen percent of cases in which the surgery was unsuccessful. He tried to not think of the possibility, but the anxiety would not leave him. When it was finally time to get up the following morning, he had only managed to sleep for a little more than an hour, and it had been a half-waking, half-sleeping state.

Naalem and Malar had wanted to accompany him to the hospital. While he would have been comforted by their presence, he also didn’t want them, especially Naalem, seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He was exhausted and unable to control his emotions as well as he usually did. That had been the case overall since the accident, but even more so today in particular. 

He rode to the medical center in near silence with Sarek. His stomach felt as though it were wound up in knots. Once they arrived, Sarek checked him in, and then escorted him to a room. 

“The staff will be in to see you momentarily. They will keep me apprised of your condition. When it is deemed suitable for you to have visitors, I shall be in to see you. Would you like me to bring Malar and Naalem as well?”

“No, if I want to see them after I wake up, I’ll let you know.”

“Very well. Is there anything you need of me?”

“No.”

“I shall see you later today then.”

Losha nodded his head. He heard Sarek turn and exit the room. 

A few minutes later, a nurse entered and instructed him to change into a hospital gown she handed him. When she returned several minutes after that, she removed his hair using some type of laser tool. It felt strange, having no hair. Though the temperature in the room was comfortable, his head felt cold. He didn’t have time to give it much thought, however, because he was soon being directed out of the room on the anti grav gurney. Another nurse then instructed him that she was about to give him a hypospray that would render him unconscious. He heard the flush of air from the hypospray and wondered how long it would actually take for him to lose consciousness. 

“Velekh, du nam-tor s' sharushan.” A Vulcan voiced seemed to be speaking to him from a dream. The voice was male, and it was one he didn’t recognize. It had said he was out of surgery. But how was that possible? He had only just heard the nurse ejecting the hypospray.

“I am Sodok, a nurse.” The voice continued in Vulcan. “Can you understand me?”

“Ah,” Losha replied in Vulcan. “This is real? I am not dreaming?”

“No, you are conscious now.”

“The surgery is over?”

“Yes, you are in the recovery room now.”

“But I still can’t see.” Losha was confused. 

“There is a covering over your eyes. The doctor will remove it when he comes in to examine you shortly.”

Losha reached up and felt the cloth bandaging that was around his head. He hadn’t even felt it.

“Do not attempt to remove it. I will let the doctor know you are conscious.” 

Before Losha could ask him any more questions, he was gone. The whole thing seemed surreal, even more so by the fact that the entire conversation had taken place in Vulcan. He frequently read news or articles in Vuhlkansu and other languages, but this was the longest conversation he’d had in the language in some time. All the other hospital staff had spoken to him in Standard. Perhaps Sodok didn’t speak it. It didn’t matter - he had no issue with comprehension and wouldn’t have minded if the staff had spoken to him in Klingon, though he couldn’t call himself fluent in that language. 

One thing he had learned in all his travels was that one should do one’s best to speak the native language. He had never expected others to cater to him, so it had been somewhat strange to have everyone addressing him in Standard. Still, he felt it would have been awkward to ask them not to. What if there was some medical terminology he didn’t understand? Then they might find him silly for having to requested to speak in Vuhlkansu in the first place.

It was only a moment or so before the door opened again.

“I am Dr. Karatek, one of the doctors who performed your surgery.” It was back to Standard. It wasn’t a dream.

“I am Velekh. But I suppose you know that.” 

The nurse had been the first person to use his given name since he had last seen his father. Occasionally a captain or crew member noticed his legal name wasn’t Losha and would inquire about it, but since he always introduced himself as Losha, that’s what they called him. He knew a first officer from Tarod III that went by the Seenan name of Vola because no one could pronounce his real name. The Seenans didn’t think anything of it as they had a habit of giving Seenan nicknames to aliens. Losha supposed it was silly to ask Vulcans to refer to him by a Seenan nickname, especially one that implied a familiarity. The hospital staff didn’t know him so Velekh was sufficient. The name itself didn’t bother him, it was only odd to hear it come off his own lips.

“Yes,” he said and continued on without pausing in a very Vulcan-like way. “I am confident the surgery was successful. I will remove your bandages now. Lights to forty percent. We have applied contact lenses which are to be worn for two days. This will protect the eyes from light damage. You will also need to wear sunglasses while you are awake. Both the lenses and the glasses will adjust for light intake. The glasses are necessary only because the lenses cannot block as much light without obscuring vision.” 

The doctor was removing the bandages as he spoke. As Losha felt the last of the bandage coming off, Dr. Karatek said, “You may open your eyes now.”

Losha didn’t realize what he was seeing at first, he only noticed lightness and darkness. Soon he realized he was looking at a white wall in a relatively dark room. He turned to his left and a Vulcan face came into focus. He stared at the face, afraid it wasn’t real. The eyes were brown, the nose unremarkable, the skin the same russet color of many Hakarans. Soon he realized the face was looking at him expectantly. Tears begin to fill his eyes and he turned his head away.


	47. Chapter 47

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.296

After he was able to compose himself, Losha turned back to Dr. Karatek. He wasn’t sure what to make of the expectant face, the first he’d seen since the accident. It exuded the typical Vulcan calm, but it wasn’t void of emotion like those of the Vulcans he had occasionally encountered in his line of work. His hair was short, though due to its curly texture, did not hang in the blunt cut style typically worn by Vulcans with straighter hair. Though there were no signs of graying, slight lines on his face indicated that he was perhaps nearing one hundred in terms of age. He wore a loose-fitting gray shirt and pants, likely the hospital uniform. He held up a thin, silver-colored scanner. 

“I will perform a cursory examination on your eyes.”

Dr. Karatek did not give any indication he had noticed the tears. Losha wasn’t sure if the fact that the doctor was Vulcan made it more or less embarrassing. A Seenan doctor would have asked if he were alright and perhaps even tried to offer comfort had he noticed his patient crying. Though Losha couldn’t imagine ever being capable of controlling all his emotions, he disliked crying in front of anyone. He thought he had long ago cried his last tears, but since the accident, he found himself crying more than he had in perhaps the last decade. As the doctor performed the examination, he concentrated on preventing any further tears from forming.

“Everything appears to be as it should be, though it will be several days before I can determine whether your vision is completely recovered. It may be several days or weeks before your eyes learn to focus and work together again. Reading may prove difficult initially. A vision therapist will be in to see you tomorrow and will provide you with some exercises and guidance. Do you have any questions?”

“No.” The truth was, he wanted Dr. Karatek to leave. He found himself unable to stop staring at him, and he knew it was rude. He wanted to look at other things too, to look at words, to see if he could read. Even if reading did prove difficult, at least he could see this much. Words or no words, he would no longer be dependant on other people.

“Very well. I will be in tomorrow to perform further examinations. Our initial scans after the surgery indicated that the brain is functioning and recovering normally. If the scans tomorrow evidence this as well, as I expect, you will be discharged, though I will need to see you again for a follow up visit. I will discuss this further with you tomorrow.”

With that, Dr. Karatek turned to leave the room.

“The nurse will be back in shortly to go over some more things with you.”

Losha hoped Sodok, or whomever the nurse happened to be, would return sooner rather than later. He was anxious to see Naalem and to look at his padd to see whether he could read. He spent what seemed like an eternity taking turns staring at different objects in the room, including a door across from him. He supposed it was a lavatory. There was a window to his right, but it was darkened so as to be opaque. He was considering getting out of bed to see if he could lighten it when he heard someone walking into the room. 

He turned to see a man wearing the same loose-fitting gray clothing as Dr. Karatek. He was younger than the doctor, but clearly older than Losha. He was tall with a stocky build, and had medium brown hair and light brown eyes. 

“Are you Sodok?”

“Yes. I wanted to let you know that I will be in hourly to check on you. Tomorrow afternoon Dr. Karatek will determine whether these checks are still necessary. Should you need anything in between my checks, depress the white button on the side of the bed.” He moved around the bed and indicated the button on the right side of the bed.

“You may begin consuming foods tomorrow, but today only water. The lavatory is here.” He pointed to a door across from Losha. “I will assist you to it.”

“I don’t need to use it.” 

“Still, I need to assist you in rising from the bed and walking to it. It is necessary to determine whether you are capable of this before I leave you again.”

With Sodok’s assistance, Losha was able to stand and take a few steps, and then immediately realized why Sodok had insisted on this. As he moved, things seemed a bit blurry, and he had difficulty judging distance. He may very well have fallen flat on his face had he attempted to get out of bed and walk without the nurse’s assistance.

Sodok perceived his difficulty immediately and did not release his grip from around Losha’s shoulders. When they made it to the lavatory door, Sodok asked him again whether he needed to use it. The answer was still no, so the nurse helped him back to his bed.

“Your difficulty walking is to be expected. Do not attempt to get up and walk around without my assistance.”

“Can I have visitors now?”

“Yes, Dr. Karatek has approved you to have visitors. The staff will be keeping your family apprised of your progress. I expect they will be in sometime today to see you.”

“I didn’t bring my padd with me here to the hospital. Do you have padds here so that I have something to read?”

“Your eyes may not be able to focus well enough to read at this stage, but I can bring you a padd so that you may at least listen to articles.”

“Thank you.”

“I will be back momentarily.”

Losha went back to staring at various objects around the sparsely decorated room. Aside from the bed he was lying in, the only other object in the room was a table on his right, which was the same shade of gray as both the bed and the hospital workers’ uniforms. The walls were an off-white color and the floor was a brighter white. He lifted his gaze from the floor when he heard footsteps once again. 

The man who stood in the doorway was not Sodok. He wore a light brown tunic with a darker brown horizontal stripe across it, and tan pants, clearly not the hospital uniform. He was an older man, his thick hair completely gray, with light-colored eyes. He was taller than Dr. Karatek, though not quite as tall as Sodok. He held what appeared to be a padd in his left hand. Losha studied him closely, waiting for him to speak. 

“The nurse informed me you requested a padd.” The voice of the man who now approached him, the padd extended in his hand, was familiar.

“You are Sarek.”

“Yes.”

Losha took the padd from him without looking at it, unable to take his eyes off the older man.

“I thought you would be Sodok, the nurse.”

“He approached me in the waiting room to ask whether I had brought your padd along.”

“I didn’t know you were here.”

“The hospital staff informed me not long ago that you were conscious, and I came when they informed me you were permitted visitors.” Losha had not expected Sarek to look as he did. He had imagined someone older, thinner, and with eyes as dark as his father’s. It was strange to hear the voice he knew coming from this strange looking man. 

“I was conducting business in the city,” Sarek continued, “not far from the hospital. Amanda, Malar, and Naalem should be arriving shortly.”

It finally occurred to Losha that he had been staring at Sarek, so he looked down at the padd on his lap. He immediately recognized it as his own.

“It’s my padd.” He looked up at Sarek again.

“Yes, I brought it with me as I knew I would arrive at the hospital first.” 

“Thank you.”

Sarek nodded his head in reply. 

“Is there something you wished to look at on it?”

“No, nothing in particular. I just wanted to see if I could read. The doctor told me that it might be a while before my eyes can focus well enough to read.”

“But your vision is adequate otherwise, the doctor informed me.”

“Yes, I can see again.” Losha couldn’t help but smile, but quickly composed himself. “I can see you, and everything in this room, and I could see the doctor and the nurse. Things were blurry when I tried to walk, but Sodok told me that is to be expected.”

“I am glad.” It only lasted a second, but Losha was convinced he saw a twinkling Sarek’s eyes.

“So I am.” He smiled again, this time not caring what Sarek thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still following the story and especially to everyone who has commented or left kudos. Unfortunately, my work situation hasn't changed - my schedule is still making it extremely difficult to get any writing done. I have some time off this month, though, so will be adding more chapters this week!


	48. Chapter 48

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.296

“I do not wish to disturb you further. You have other visitors on the way, and the hospital staff have informed me that visits today should be limited in duration. However, I will remain here until Amanda arrives with Malar and Naalem. Do not hesitate to contact me should you need anything.”

Losha nodded and looked past Sarek to the doorway. He didn’t really want to be left alone, but he also wasn’t sure what to say to his grandfather. The others would be here soon enough though. 

“Thank you again.” He turned his gaze back to Sarek. “For bringing my padd.”

“It is illogical…” Sarek stopped midway through his sentence and paused. “It was no trouble.”

“And for everything else. For helping me to get this surgery.”

Sarek looked as if he were on the verge of saying something, but simply nodded his head and left the room.

It was strange to actually see his grandfather for the first time and to discover that he did not look at all like the person he had imagined. Aside from the texture and color of his hair and perhaps his build, he could not see where his father much resembled him. Perhaps his father looked more like his mother. His mother who had raised him because Sarek didn’t want any involvement in his son’s life. He told himself not to let it bother him, because it hadn’t bothered his father enough that he’d ever mentioned it. But then, nothing had ever really seemed to bother his father much. He had been resilient in a way that few people were. 

But Losha had Sarek to thank for recovering his eyesight, and he was thankful. His grandfather’s motivations may have been strictly out of a sense of familial duty or obligation, but he had helped him nonetheless. He was grateful to him, even if he could not agree with all of his actions nor understand his motivations. 

There was no use getting upset at the moment. He turned his focus to his padd. On Senes and during the trip to Vulcan he had been listening to a historical novel about a Klingon captain who had prevented a war between the Federation and the Klingon Empire some sixty years earlier. Losha had never found Klingons to be particularly interesting, but the novel was intriguing and he was learning that much of what he had assumed about Klingons was inaccurate. He was eager to continue with the story. 

Looking down at the padd, however, he realized that the script was blurry. He squinted his eyes, then held the padd out and moved it around, trying to look at it from different angles. It was no use - it was blurry from every angle. He sighed and tried not to let himself be disappointed. At least he was no longer blind. Still, what good was vision if he couldn’t even walk to the lavatory without feeling disoriented? It would take time, he told himself. Be patient. He thought about listening to more of the novel, but found he wanted to continue looking at things, rather than listening. He called up images of Senes on his phone - the Sea of Lataan, Undaa, its people and animals. The images he could see fairly clearly, it was just text that presented a problem. He told himself over and over to be grateful that he was once again seeing things he thought he’d never see again.

After what must have been an hour since his last visit, Sodok came in to check on him. He brought a cup of water with him and asked again if Losha wanted to attempt to walk to the lavatory. It was no easier than his first attempt. Sodok informed him that Dr. Karatek believed the issue would be resolved in a matter of days, and if necessary, a walker could be requisitioned.

Sodok was helping him back into bed when Naalem appeared in the doorway, Malar behind him.

“Losha!” 

“You may enter,” Sodok said as he turned towards the doorway. “I will be back in a hour.” So Sodok could speak Standard. Until this point, he had conversed with Losha entirely in Vuhlkansu. 

Naalem and Malar moved into the room so that Sodok could pass, then approached the bed.

“Sarek says that you can see!” Naalem smiled hesitantly.

“Yes, but things are still blurry when I try to walk, and I can’t see text clearly. But I am seeing a vision therapist tomorrow. Hopefully that will help.”

“But you can see, Losha.” Malar’s face was composed, but she had that glint in her eyes he had nearly forgotten. He had not been blind that long, and he hadn’t forgotten what she or Naalem looked like, but seeing them again was somewhat surreal. 

“Yes, I can see.” He smiled slightly.

“I knew the ambassador was going to be able to help you,” Naalem’s hesitant smile broke into a broad grin. “I knew you wouldn’t be blind forever.”

“And how did you know that?” Losha looked at him playfully.

“Because I just knew that was not how things were supposed to be for you.”

“I see,” Losha laughed. “And what have you been up to today?”

“We’ve just been waiting at the house with Amanda.”

“Oh, yes, Sarek said she was coming with you. Where is she?”

“She’s in the waiting room.” Malar answered. “She wanted to see you too, but thought we should come in first.”

“You can tell her to come in.”

“I’ll go tell her.” Naalem turned and hurried out the door.

“Naalem, slow down! We’re on Vulcan, remember?” Malar gave him a stern look.

“They’ll probably throw him out for being unruly. This is the quietest hospital I’ve ever been in.”

“We are on Vulcan, remember?” Losha smiled at her.

“You don’t know how happy I am, Losha. Happy for you.”

“I know. But don’t get emotional on me, alright?” 

“Hmmph.” Was all Malar could manage. Vulcans aside, Malar was the least emotional person he knew. 

“I was looking at pictures on my padd. Look, it’s the Sea of Lataan.” He pushed the on button and held his padd out to Malar. “I never thought I’d see it again.”

“And it won’t be long before you see it again in person. But first there are so many things to see here on Vulcan. In time, of course. Sarek explained to us what the doctor said about it taking time for your eyes to adjust to the light. And to focusing again so that you can read.”

Footsteps approached the room and Losha looked past Malar to see Amanda and Naalem at the door. Malar turned in surprise. She, apparently, hadn’t heard them. Vulcan hearing was only marginally better than Seenan. Losha wondered whether he had developed more acute hearing since losing his sight, or whether Malar simply hadn’t been paying attention. He certainly paid more attention to sound since the accident, but perhaps that would fade with time now that he also had sight to rely on.

“Losha, I’m so glad to see you.” A smile lit the old woman’s face. “And to know that you can once again see me.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate what you have done for me.”

“Nonsense. You’re family. And even if you weren’t, it would have been my pleasure, our pleasure, to help.” She smiled and Losha knew it was a genuine smile, that Amanda would have helped him even if he were nothing more to her than a total stranger.

The three of them remained for about a quarter of an hour, but then had to say goodbye for the day as visiting time was limited. 

Sodok continued to make his hourly visits until the evening nurse, T’Vel, took over. She was young, perhaps even younger than Losha, yet quite stern, with a no-nonsense attitude. Though Sodok had seemed to him unremarkable, Losha found himself wishing he would return. At least he would be asleep for much of T’Vel’s shift, he thought.

Amanda had suggested he look at pictures of some of the places on Vulcan she hoped to take him. Besides the attractions in Shi’Kahr itself, she suggested a trip to Lake Yuron, which was within Shi’Kahr’s provincial limits. It was a popular tourist destination for visiting aliens and she thought its diversity might be appealing to him, as well as to Naalem and Malar. There were places further from Shi’Kahr she wished to show them too, but that it would all depend on what he wanted to do.

“Is your vision improving? Amanda told me you were having difficulty reading.”

Sarek stood in the doorway, looking at Losha look at his padd.

“No, I’m just looking at pictures. Nothing’s improved yet. I didn’t think anyone was coming back to see me tonight.”

“After I saw you this afternoon, I returned to my office in the city. I thought I would come to see whether you required anything before I returned home.” Sarek entered the room and approached the bed.

“No, I’m fine. But thank you.”

“The Celjok Shrine.” Sarek looked down at the image on the padd. “Lake Yuron is quite a popular tourist destination.”

“Do you recommend I visit it?” 

“If only because you haven’t seen it before. I visited it often as a young man. There are a number of hiking trails, the P’Tranek monastery, and the shrine, of course.”

“Did you ever go during the season of renewal?”

Sarek straightened and Losha could see a tiny upturn in his mouth that was clearly a repressed frown.

“Nearly all students in Shi’Kahr visit during the season of renewal. The beaches and the shrine provide excellent places to meditate and focus for those in the midst of their studies.”

“Amanda said there were hot springs at the monastery.” Losha couldn’t help but cracking a smile.

“Yes, the hot springs are believed to have healing properties, though this has never been proven conclusively.”

“I see. So it sounds like a fun place to visit then.” It took all the control Losha had to prevent himself from laughing.

“I would not use the word ‘fun’ to describe it. However, I have no doubt you will find it a worthwhile destination during your stay on Vulcan. What other places has my wife suggested?” 

Losha couldn’t say for sure, but he was fairly certain that Sarek repressed a sigh.


	49. Chapter 49

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.298

It was just after midday on Losha’s third day in the hospital. The previous day had proved a busy one, with visits from both Dr. Karatek and the vision therapist. She had confirmed the doctor’s assessment that with practice, Losha’s vision would return to normal. He would need to re-train his brain, but the more he practiced, the faster he would see improvements. She had provided him with a padd specifically designed for vision therapy, which contained a full vision training program. One day, without him even thinking about it, she said, text would suddenly become clear. The same was true for depth perception, though she believed that would be restored much more quickly. 

Dr. Karatek’s initial examination determined that in terms of brain recuperation, Losha was well enough to be released. However, as he was still having difficulty walking, it was deemed necessary that he remain at the hospital longer. He had spent much of the day walking around the halls with the assistance of both Sodok and a walker. It was disorienting, but at the same time, he wanted to look at as many things as possible. Seeing light coming in through windows in the rooms was intriguing, yet he was not able to see the full brightness of it with the contact lenses and sunglasses he had to wear. He would have continued to walk around the halls when T’Vel took over, but since he did not want her company, he told her he was too tired.

Amanda, Malar, Naalem, and Sarek had visited him in the late afternoon. As he had discovered on his first evening in the hospital, when the topic was Vulcan points of interest, conversation with Sarek proved fairly easy. Sarek was extremely knowledgeable on various sites, even those outside Shi’Kahr, and seemed eager to share his knowledge, if eager was a word that could be used to describe a Vulcan. Now that he could see his face, he was able to read some slight indications of emotion. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to try to tease Sarek by asking him about the uzhaya wak-krus, or the time of renewal, at Lake Yuron. Amanda had described it as a time when young Vulcans might be seen behaving a tad illogically, partaking in festivals along the beach or at the hot springs.

Losha was also beginning to be able to observe personality, if not emotions, from Sodok, the nurse. Compared to T’Vel, he seemed cheerful, though anyone could be said to seem cheerful when compared to her. There was also something in his tone and in his eyes that hinted at what could only be described as sarcasm. Sodok had returned to take away the dishes from Losha’s first meal since arriving in the hospital, which consisted of t’mirak, a rice dish, and water. It had been well over twenty Standard years since Losha had tasted t’mirak, but he still remembered the flavor. The hospital version differed somewhat from what his mother had made, and he supposed it was either because the hospital dish was likely replicated or because his mother hadn’t always had access to the Vulcan spices that seasoned the dish and had often had to adapt it based on what spices were available locally. 

Though Malar owned a replicator that could produce dishes from just about anywhere, he had never used it to replicate anything Vulcan aside from one attempt to make tolik, a sour fruit he had loved above all others. It was the first thing he’d replicated on his visit to Malar’s after she’d purchased the appliance, but it didn’t taste the way he remembered it on Ivor Prime so he hadn’t bothered replicating it again. Since Malar’s housekeeper also cooked, the replicator wasn’t used frequently. Still, he could have replicated a Vulcan meal if he chose, but didn’t want to dredge up long buried memories of his mother. The night Sarek had arrived on Senes had been the first time he’d tried a Vulcan dish from that replicator, though none of the dishes she’d made that night were any he recalled his mother making.

“As Dr. Karatek has surely informed you, you may be released this evening if you are able to walk sufficiently well without assistance. Rather than walking through the halls again, I thought you might enjoy a walk outside in the garden. However, T’Vel noted in your file that you declined to walk last evening, due to fatigue.”

“Yes, but I feel up to walking today.”

The garden outside reminded Losha of the section of the Royal Gardens in Undaa that displayed plants from the Minai Desert. Kadren had taken him there when he was a boy, and he had since taken Naalem there. The hospital garden had two neatly arranged rows of desert plants on either side of a small, rectangular reflecting pool, with benches surrounding it. Aside from an older Vulcan woman who sat facing the pool, the gardens were empty. Beyond the pool stood a towering succulent that was perhaps six meters high.

Losha paused to look up at it. 

“I have never seen such a tall cactus before.”

“You have never seen a kuranji before?” Sodok sounded surprised.

“No, but I’ve only been on Vulcan for three days. And before yesterday, I couldn’t see anything.”

“You have never visited Vulcan before?” Sodok cocked his head toward Losha. 

“No.” It was the simplest answer he could give without going into the complicated details of his life.

“I surmised that you were from a colony world, but I had assumed you had been on Vulcan before. I see now that it was illogical of me to make such an assumption.”

“Why did you think I’m from a colony world?” How did Vulcans perceive him?

“Your mannerisms.” 

“I don’t seem like a Vulcan, do I?”

“You seem like a Vulcan who has lived off-planet.” 

Losha supposed that was the most information he’d get out of Sodok, who was obviously trying to be polite.

“Do you know what these bushes are here?” Losha asked, pointing down at one of the beds.

“A g’tesh bush.”

“I think I can walk without this walker. Things aren’t as blurry as they were yesterday.”

Losha lifted his hands off the walker and Sodok wheeled it off to the side. Without any further assistance from Sodok, he found he was able to walk along the path. Some things still seemed a bit blurry, but it was a significant improvement from the previous day. After he had walked up and around the pool and around each of the garden beds several times, Sodok finally spoke again.

“Are you fatigued? Or would you like to continue walking?”

“I’m not fatigued.”

“It would be unwise to exert yourself.”

“I wasn’t really fatigued last night. I just didn’t feel like walking.”

“I understand. Walking through the hallways can be tedious.”

“Yes.” In truth, it hadn’t been tedious for Losha as he had been eager to see anything he could outside of his sterile room.

“And I suspect T’Vel is not the most pleasant of companions.”

Losha froze mid-step, stunned at this admission from Sodok. He turned to look at him and saw a gleam in his eyes and a minute smile on his face. Almost instantly, though, the nurse pulled his face back into an expression of complete neutrality. Sodok was joking with him!

“I find her to be very, uh, Vulcan.” He would have also used the word unpleasant, but it seemed too rude.

“She is no more or less Vulcan than you or I. But, as a junior staff member, she does not have her choice of shifts. She does not desire to work during the night.”

“So she’s unhappy that she has to work nights and that’s why she is the way she is?”

“She is the way she is because it is the way she is. One’s personality does not change based on the time of day one works. Shall we continue walking?”

After several more trips around the pool and the garden beds, they returned inside. Sodok entered some information into his padd, then began removing Losha’s contact lenses. The nurse’s padd began to buzz.

“Dr. Karatek has responded to my update to your patient file,” he said, once he had dropped the lenses into the waste reclamation unit, which was built into the wall. He tapped the padd and looked down at it.

“You are to be discharged at 1800 hours.”


	50. Chapter 50

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.298

Losha looked out the window of the ground car at the sun setting over the suburbs of ShiKahr. In the distance were the foothills of the L-Langon mountains. The further from the city they got, the closer the desert loomed. He had been released from the hospital and Sarek was driving him back to the house, where Naalem, Malar, and Amanda awaited. Unlike what he had seen of the city, with its office towers and apartment buildings, they now passed neighborhoods of small houses, all surrounded by neatly maintained gardens. As the sun had not gone down completely, he wore glasses which adjusted automatically to light input. He wondered how much brighter things would appear without them. It had been a quiet ride with Sarek. Silence made Losha uncomfortable, but he could think of nothing to say.

When the homes and buildings began to taper off, they turned down a road which bordered the desert to the right. They passed two houses between the road and the beginnings of the desert. The road then dipped down a rolling hill, before leveling off for a short distance. Here Sarek turned right onto an unmarked road, then pulled up to a gate on the left. He pressed a button on the car’s control panel and waited as the gate began to swing open.

Once they were inside the property, he turned to the right where the driveway continued to a detached garage. When they exited the car and emerged from the garage, Losha looked out to the desert below and beyond them. Terraced rows of shrubs and desert plants led down a slight hill toward a wrought iron fence that enclosed the entire property. A gate at the bottom opened onto a trail that led through haphazard bushes out into the desert, the mountains in the distance. 

“It is too late this evening, but tomorrow I can show you the property and perhaps we can go on a walk of the neighborhood.” Sarek, who had been heading up toward the house, turned and stopped when he saw that Losha was not behind him.

“I would like that.” Losha turned around to follow Sarek up into the house. It was a single story house that did not seem particularly large for an ambassador, though the grounds were extensive.

Naalem and Amanda greeted Losha with wide smiles. Malar was smiling too, overjoyed, he knew, in her own subdued way. The front door opened into a foyer lined with small bookcases on each side, and past those was the sitting room that led out onto the patio. Amanda gave him a tour of the rest of the house, which he had mapped out in his mind in the days he had spent there before the surgery. Losha was again struck by how different the house appeared than what he had imagined. The kitchen, which led into a dining room, was to the left; to the right was the hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. Everything was simply but elegantly decorated. 

The room Losha had been staying in was the first on the left. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he stepped across the threshold, Amanda behind him. A bed with night tables on either side, a chair, a dresser, and a wardrobe. A painting of a rock formation hung over the bed.

“Do you recognize it?” Amanda asked.

“No.”

“It’s Sehlat Rock, near Raal on the Voroth Sea.”

“Why is it called Sehlat Rock?”

“You know what a sehlat is, right?”

“Yes. I have seen pictures of them.”

“Well, if you turn your head this way,” she leaned somewhat to the right and tipped her head down, “it looks like the outline of a sehlat.”

Losha leaned and tipped his head in the same manner. “I can’t really see it. Maybe I’ll be able to once I do some of the vision exercises the therapist gave me.”

“If you can see it then, you’ll know your vision is completely recovered because I’ve looked at this painting nearly every day for over fifty years and I still can’t see it.” She smiled and laughed.

“Have you been to the real Sehlat Rock?”

“Yes, once many years ago, when my son was about ten. We took a vacation to the Vorath Sea.”

“Did you see the sehlat in the real formation?”

“I thought I did. For a second, perhaps.” She laughed again. “Or maybe I only thought I saw it. Spock saw it right away. This was his room, you know.” 

“I had wondered…” Losha trailed off, not wanting to bring up an unpleasant topic for Amanda, who had been so kind to him.

“You had wondered whether this was your father’s room?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Your father is an unpleasant topic for my husband, but not for reasons you might think. But if you would like to ask me about him, or talk about him, I don’t mind. As I said to you on the space station, I cared for him.” She paused for a moment before continuing.

“His room was the one Malar is staying in. Two doors down. We didn’t hang on to any of his things though. He had little when he came to us and most of that he took with him when he left. What little was left behind Sarek…” She seemed to be searching for the right word. “Well, Vulcans aren’t sentimental, as I’m sure you know.”

“If they aren’t sentimental, it would seem that objects would have no meaning to them so they wouldn’t mind hanging on to them, don’t you think?” Losha asked. Vulcan behavior was so alien to him.

Amanda sighed. 

“Yes, one would think. But I’ve come to learn that Vulcans aren’t always what one would think. I’d better get dinner ready. We can talk more later.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

Dinner passed quietly. Afterwards, they retired to the sitting room. Losha was anxious to look at everything he possibly could, but found himself yawning not long after they sat down. It was only then he realized how exhausting the day had been.

After breakfast the following morning, he sat in the garden, trying to focus on his exercises. He had wanted to get out of the house, but found himself too distracted by everything in the garden to concentrate. It was smaller than he imagined. He was sitting on the bench, which lay to the right of the doors to the sitting room. To the left of the doors was a table that sat four, and to his right, past the bench, was a gate that opened onto the grounds. Potted plants filled the patio, as well as those hanging from the wall that enclosed it.

He tried once again to focus on the exercises, knowing that as soon as he finished, he would be able to tour the grounds and the neighborhood. He looked up at the sound of the doors opening. Sarek stepped out onto the patio.

“My apologies for interrupting you.”

“It’s o.k. I was having trouble concentrating anyway.” 

“I regret that I will not be able to accompany you around the grounds and neighborhood this morning. I have been called into the city on urgent business. My presence is necessary, unfortunately. Amanda will be most gratified to show you around. I hope to return by late afternoon.”

“Alright. I understand.”

“Good day.” Sarek turned and re-entered the house.

Losha was actually somewhat relieved that Sarek had been called away on business. The prospect of spending time alone with his grandfather was still uncomfortable for him. He was getting more comfortable in his presence, but Sarek was still a virtual stranger to him. And the short conversation he’d had with Amanda about his father last night had brought more feelings of discomfort to the surface. Amanda had said she’d cared about his father, and he found it easy to be around her. But letting himself get to know Sarek felt somewhat like a betrayal to his father’s memory. Sarek might be able to pretend as if his father never existed, but he couldn’t. 

“Losha?” He heard Amanda’s voice at the same time he heard the door opening. “I don’t mean to rush you, but it will be getting very hot soon. If you aren’t finished with your exercises yet, we can postpone the tour ‘til early evening. That might be for the best anyway since Sarek will be back by then.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I was just finishing.” He hit the power button on the padd, his exercises unfinished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My vacation has ended, so I'm not sure when I will have the chance to write the next chapter. However, I'm fairly confident it won't be as long as the wait between chapters 46 and 47 since I do have a few days off coming up in the near future. I'll do my best :-) Thanks to everyone who has stuck with the story this long, and to my beta reader, TomFooleryPrime.


	51. Chapter 51

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.299

“One day this may all be yours,” Amanda smiled as they stepped through the front door and waved at the grounds around them, “because I don’t think Spock will ever give us a grandchild.” Her eyes glimmered. 

“I don’t know if Sarek told you, but this land has been in his family, your family, for twenty-two generations, going back to the time before Surak. Your ancestor, L’Vor, was one of the earliest adopters of Surak’s philosophy. It’s rather fitting since his name means ‘bearer of infinite learning’ in Old High Vulcan.”

“No, he hadn’t told me.” He followed Amanda to the end of the walkway that led from the house to the driveway.

“And I don’t know whether your father had told you anything…” 

“He spoke very little about his life on Vulcan. He talked a lot about the history of Vulcan, but never much about his own life there. I mean here. He didn’t think it mattered because he had left it all behind.”

“So you knew nothing of your father’s family.” It was not a question, but he answered anyway.

“No.”

She stopped walking and turned to face the house.

“Well, then I’ll tell you that this house was built by Solkar, Sarek’s grandfather, so your great-great-grandfather. He was very forward-thinking for his time. He was actually the first Vulcan to make contact with humans on Earth and later the first Vulcan ambassador to Earth. Other houses have stood on the premises before, but Solkar wanted a more modern home, more efficient. The one that stood here before was pretty old and required a lot of maintenance. It was a bit of a minor scandal when he had it torn down.”

Even after learning who his grandfather was, Losha had not bothered to look up any information about him or the S’chn T’gai family. It just hadn’t interested him. But hearing about Solkar, he found he wanted to learn more. However, something else was at the forefront of his mind.

“Was it a major scandal when my father was exiled?” 

Amanda pursed her lips, then sighed.

“When I said I didn’t mind speaking about him, I wasn’t expecting you to ask that. But you do deserve to know. It’s just that I haven’t spoken about it before, to anyone. And I don’t know that it’s my place to answer.” She sighed again. “But you aren’t going to get this out of Sarek.”

“It was actually hushed up pretty quickly. It was an embarrassment, not just to the family, but to Vulcans in general. It’s hard to understand if you aren’t Vulcan. Or if you weren’t raised in the Vulcan way.” She looked at Losha knowingly.

“They viewed it as a failure of their society, a failure of logic. And for others to know that not all Vulcans wish to control their emotions, that some wish to embrace it...well, I don’t know if I can think of a good analogy. It’s something they wouldn’t want to dwell on. So they act as if it never happened.”

“My father was an embarrassment so they pretended as if he never existed?” Losha felt himself beginning to get angry on behalf of his father, but tried to quell it. Amanda was kind, and it was not right to direct the anger toward her.

“Well, they wouldn’t ever admit to something being an embarrassment, but yes. But you have to understand - it’s the Vulcan way. It’s been the Vulcan way for over five thousand years. Your father wanted to change things, and they couldn’t allow that to happen. There was too much at stake. And so after he left, the only logical thing for them to do was move on. Dwelling on the past is unproductive.”

“I don’t belong here any more than my father did.” Despite Amanda’s kindness, Losha realized that he couldn’t let himself get attached to this place, couldn’t let himself become interested in any of these stories about his family or ancestors. This was why his parents hadn’t told him anything of their lives here. There was no point in becoming attached to a place where you weren’t wanted and where you didn’t belong.

“Losha, you mustn’t think that. Sarek wants you here. And so do I.” 

“You have been very kind to me, and I appreciate it. But you needn’t feel any obligation to me. It isn’t easy to be here, knowing what my father must have gone through. And my mother.”

“I can imagine.” She nodded her head slightly. “And while it’s true that Vulcans have a strong sense of familial obligation, Sarek does not act out of obligation alone. He does want you here. Very much.”

There was something so genuine about Amanda that Losha found himself opening up in a way that he hadn’t planned to.

“The day before the surgery, he told me about my father’s childhood. That he didn’t even know him until he was seventeen.”

“Yes, we both met Sybok on the same day. I’ll never forget seeing him for the first time.” 

“Why then, would he want me here? When he didn’t even want my father in his life? Unless it’s out of obligation? Because he must understand, that even though I didn’t understand everything my father did, I still love him. Loved him. He was my father. And I can’t pretend that he didn’t exist or that what happened to him here didn’t matter.”

“So Sarek didn’t tell you anything more than that your father came to live with us when his mother died?”

“He only said that his ex-wife didn’t want him in my father’s life.”

Amanda looked at him curiously, then appeared to be contemplating something. “He didn’t tell you enough. It’s not my place to say more, but I will tell you that Sarek did want Sybok in his life. Believe me. Just as he wants you in his life. Talk to him. He should be the one to tell you these things.”

“You said yourself that my father is an unpleasant topic for him.” 

“I did, didn’t I? He can handle unpleasant. And he will. You just have to ask him.”

“Can I ask you something? Something else?”

“Certainly. But how about we talk and walk? Pretty soon it’s going to be too hot for an old human like myself to stay out here. Maybe even for you too.” She winked. “Unless you’d like to have Sarek give you a tour in the evening or tomorrow morning? It would give you a chance to talk.”

“No, now that I can see again, I want to see things.” He smiled. It almost didn’t matter to him what he thought of Sarek. Amanda was beginning to be like a grandmother he’d never had.”

“Well, let’s start by looking at the gardens.” She led the way past the garage to the slope he had looked down yesterday. 

“Of course, this is all part of the property,” she motioned down the slope, “but it goes well beyond the fence down there. It’s just under one square kilometer here, but there are family lands further out from the city too. We go there occasionally, but it’s much more convenient to be here, closer to the city.”

Losha looked down the slope at the gate, the shrubs, and the desert beyond, then brought his focus back to the shrubs directly in front of them.

“Now what is it you wanted to ask me?” Amanda asked, and he turned back to her.

“How is it for you, living here, when you aren’t Vulcan? Is it strange for you to be here?”

“It was in the beginning, that’s for sure. But I knew it was going to be my home for the rest of my life, so that’s what I made it. And now it feels just as much like home as Earth once did.”

“It’s not strange, to be living here among people who don’t express emotion?”

“I’ve become used to it by now.”

“But they don’t treat you any differently?”

“Of course they treat me differently. They expect me to be different. I’m human.”

“But I’m not human.”

“Ah, so you think they will expect you to be a certain way here, because you are Vulcan.”

“Won’t they? They expected my parents to be a certain way.”

“I know it’s easy to say, but don’t worry about what other people think. You can only be you.”

“My parents had to leave here, because of what other people thought.” 

“I know. But your father wasn’t content to just be who he was. He wanted society to change. If you are content to be you, and not to try to change five thousand years of Vulcan tradition, you’ll find that people will accept you here. There will always be some who don’t, of course, but that’s true anyplace, on any planet.”

“That is true.” Even in places where he felt comfortable, like Senes and Ivor Prime, there were people who would never accept him. 

“Now, let me show you some of the fruit plants we have growing here.” She began to walk down the slope toward a group of plants off to the right. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard of plomeek soup?”

“Yes. Who hasn’t? Even Seenans have heard of Vulcans and their plomeek soup.”

Amanda laughed. “Well, here is a plomeek plant. And this is a soltar plant, and this is a gespar plant. Those are fruits used to make soups too, though they aren’t nearly as popular as plomeek soup.”

“Soltar? Isn’t it used in a tea also?” 

“Yes. Some say soltar tea is a great cure for a hangover.” She winked at him again. “Have you ever had it?”

“Yes, but it’s been a long time.”

“I can make some for you when we get back to the house, if you like.”

“I...I actually didn’t like it very much.” Losha thought back to the first and last time he had tried it. He shuddered just thinking about the taste in his mouth. But he he didn’t want to offend Amanda. “But it was on Senes, so perhaps it wasn’t the real thing.”

“Well, I can always make a pot and if you don’t like it, you are under no obligation to finish the rest. Even Sarek will usually only drink it when he’s not feeling well. But I’m surprised you’ve only had it once. Your father drank it nearly every day. He thought it could cure anything.”

“I remember.”


	52. Chapter 52

Undaa, Hakar, Senes Stardate 2281.74

Losha put the mug down and pushed it back toward the center of the table, his lips curled. The taste of the tea in his mouth made him feel as if he were going to vomit. Had there been anything in his stomach, he was certain he would have thrown up. But that’s how it was with sur. For about two days after taking it, you had no appetite. Even the smell of food could make you feel sick. The only thing you could ingest was water. Anything with flavor, even a liquid, was unpalatable. 

“You don’t like it?” Sybok looked at him from across the table.

Losha shook his head.

“It will make you feel better. Soltar tea has many beneficial properties.”

“I remember you saying that.” 

“It’s true.”

“Well, now I know why mother never drank it.”

“It’s a bit of an acquired taste. But once you acquire it, you’ll want it all the time. And you’ll feel its benefits.”

“Then why aren’t you having any?”

“I bought it for you. I had some blal earlier this morning. I figured I’d enjoy it while I can. It’s difficult to find outside Undaa.”

Undaa was known for its blal, a tea made from roasting the bark of the blaltaal tree. Losha didn’t care for it either.

“You haven’t touched your food.” Sybok looked at the plate of toast, jam, and beans that Losha had pushed to the side.

“I’m not hungry.” 

“You need to eat. You hardly weigh more than when I left. And I know because I carried you home last night.”

“I know.” Losha stared at the mug, not wanting to look his father in the eyes. The previous night, in a fit of anger, he had shoved him, hard. But Sybok was heavier and stronger than he was, and he had promptly subdued him and rendered him unconscious using the nerve pinch.

He was ashamed that his father had seen him when he’d been high, and that he’d actually shoved him, but he was also too embarrassed to apologize. He had come to in his bedroom in the apartment, the sur having worn off, suffering from the anxiety and depression that always came in the aftermath. The door had been locked from the outside - his father had apparently reversed the knob while he’d been unconscious. 

Sybok had informed him that he’d be locking him in the room at night and whenever else was necessary until he’d proven himself trustworthy. The lock was easy enough to pick, though, so he’d said nothing.

“Where did you get this Vulcan tea anyway?” He made eye contact with Sybok again, wanting to change the subject. “I haven’t seen anything Vulcan here since before the war.” 

“The same shop I used to buy it at the last time I lived here, the one I went to when we were on Marhilfan Street three days ago.” 

Losha remembered their trip to Marhilfan Street, but hadn’t paid attention to what his father had purchased. He seemed to be having more and more difficulty paying attention to and remembering details. 

“So,” Sybok pursed his lips and continued, “yesterday we talked about leaving Senes. Is that something you still want to do?”

Losha was taken somewhat aback - his father hadn’t even mentioned the fact that he’d shoved him. He had been unusually calm this entire morning. Actually, it was nearing midday - he’d been unconscious most of the morning.

They had discussed it yesterday evening, before he’d gone off to the Maysal. Before he’d gotten high and shoved his father. He’d said he’d wanted to leave, but he hadn’t really given it much thought. He looked down at the mug again, resting in front of his hands on the table. They were shaking. 

“Yes.” As comfortable as Undaa had become for him, he knew he needed to leave. There were too many unpleasant memories, and it is was too easy to continue down the destructive path he’d been on if he chose to stay.

“I agree that you are overdue for a change in environment. But one should move on when one is ready to explore a new place and learn new things, not to escape from emotions and self-created problems.”

“So you think we should stay here?” Losha looked at Sybok quizzically. He had been certain he would want to take him off Senes as quickly as possible after what had happened last night.

“What do you think?” 

Why did he always have to answer a question with a question?

“This place isn’t good for me. I know that. But…” He turned his head to the window in kitchen, avoiding eye contact.

“But?”

“I don’t know.”

“You are afraid to leave this place. You have become comfortable here and you are afraid of change.”

“I told you not to read my thoughts!” He had never liked his father’s ability to know his feelings, but now that he was an adult, it was particularly aggravating. 

“I am not reading your thoughts. I only read the emotion that you project out and you project very strongly. And yes, I can block out everything you project, but you refuse to communicate with me. How can I help you if I don’t know what you are experiencing?”

“There’s nothing you can do to help me.” Losha sighed. 

“It is true that change must come from within. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t also help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“What kind of father would I be if I let you go through this alone?” A expression of sadness passed over Sybok’s face.

“You left me alone for eleven years. Why don’t you just leave me alone again?” 

Overcome with anger, Losha stood up from the table and stomped towards the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

He lay on the bed, taking several deep breaths. He felt overcome with sadness, and yet he had just pushed away his father, who was probably the only person who truly loved him. Why had he said those things to Sybok? Why was he trying to push him away when that was the last thing he actually wanted? He was angry at himself, at his juvenile behavior, stomping away and slamming doors as if he were a child throwing a temper tantrum. Yet he had been unable to stop himself.

It was the sur. He was responsible for his own actions, he knew, but he also knew that he would not have behaved in that manner had it not been for the drug. He hated feeling this way, this terrible aftermath when the drug had worn off. Before, it hadn’t mattered who had been around for it. But now his father was here to see it and he was ashamed.

Sybok had been right. He, who used to love the excitement of discovering a new place, meeting new people, learning new things, had become of afraid of change. Undaa was comfortable - he knew it like the back of his hand - and the idea of going someplace else brought on a feeling of extreme apprehension. He didn’t want to get to learn a new place again. Rationally, he knew that he would eventually get used to it, that wherever he went next would one day seem as comfortable as Undaa, but he didn’t want to take those first steps. He was tired and it was easy to stay in relative comfort when he was only half-awake most of the time. He would need to get past his addiction and his fear before he could move on. 

He sighed. He had already lost his telepathic abilities and now he noticed that he was losing his memory, having difficulty concentrating when he never had before. He may never be able to recover those things and if he continued using sur and kenal; the memory and concentration loss would probably get even worse. It was not going to be easy, but he had to stop using it. He couldn’t let it be a temptation anymore. He would not disappoint his father, or himself. He would do it. And then he would be free to leave and finally do something with his life.

A few hours later, he was struggling with the loneliness brought on by the withdrawal. He didn’t want to remain by himself in the room, but he was embarrassed by his behavior earlier. He knew he would eventually have to come out, so he forced himself to stand up and open the door. Sybok had been about to knock on it.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to join me on a trip to Marhilfan Street?” He seemed as calm as he had been earlier.

“You’re not going to buy more of that awful tea there, are you?”

“No. I thought you might want to get out of the house.”

“Yes. I do need to get out of the house.”

“We can get something to eat there, if you’re hungry.”

“Alright.”

“And perhaps I should pick up a lock that can’t be picked?” There was a slight grin on his face.

“Perhaps.”


	53. Chapter 53

ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.299

Since his discussion with Amanda three days ago, Sarek had given more thought to how best to forge a relationship with his grandson. Amanda had advised him to deal with Losha as he would a non-Vulcan, but that was proving difficult. Humans were the species he knew best besides his own, yet he was not adept at this kind of familial relationship with them. On a professional level, he dealt with them at ease. And while he knew Amanda better than anyone else, a relationship with a mate was not the same as one with a grandson. He wasn’t even sure if he should be trying to treat Losha as a human, since, after all, he wasn’t human. But it was the best he could do, knowing Amanda had been correct in her judgment that he could not expect Losha to react as a Vulcan would, and therefore he should not treat him as such. 

Though he disliked talking about Sybok, he had acknowledged that this dislike was a result of emotion, and, as such, he should not intentionally try to avoid the subject, however much he wished it. He also understood that were he in Losha’s position, he too would want to know about his family. Not only this, but it was Losha’s right to know. He would have to make an effort to put aside his trepidation surrounding the topic. He had attempted to do so the day after his discussion with Amanda. 

With Amanda, Malar, and Naalem gone from the house, he had gone into the garden in an attempt to forge a connection with his grandson. He had intentionally brought up Sybok, and even discussed the nature of his relationship with T’Rea, a subject he had never broached with anyone aside from Amanda. He had hoped Losha would understand that he hadn’t known his son in the way that he wanted to, the way a father should know a son, and that this was undoubtedly part of the reason for Sybok’s behavior. Somehow, though, things had not gone as he had imagined. He had thought his actions had made it clear that he wanted a better relationship with his grandson than he’d had with his son, but his efforts had seemed to have the opposite effect.

Sarek had sensed a sudden anger arise in Losha when the topic of his father had come up, anger directed specifically at him. This seemed illogical, but he reminded himself that his grandson was grieving and that Amanda was once again right - when dealing with non-Vulcans, he must be patient. Still, it was unpleasant to have anger directed at him, particularly when he could not understand the reason. Losha had hastily ended the conversation, and had stated that he did not want to undergo telepathic treatment. Sarek had sensed that Losha had surprised himself with this declaration - that he had made a rash decision in anger. Still, outwardly, Losha held his emotions in check, so there was nothing to be done but continue to make an effort. The difficulty was in knowing at what point his effort would only serve to push his grandson further away. It was nearly the same situation he had been in with Sybok, though Sybok had been able to control his emotions so well that Sarek hadn’t realized he was pushing him away until it was too late.

Things had improved after the surgery. It was clear that Losha was happier, and he had sensed no anger from him during his visits to the hospital. He could even sense that Losha felt more at ease when speaking with him. So it had been a bit of a disappointment when he’d been called to business the morning he had planned to show Losha around the property and neighborhood. He had hoped some more time alone with him would prove beneficial to their relationship, but he had gone to Shi’Kahr understanding that there would be other opportunities. What he had learned in Shi’Kahr, however, somewhat altered his plans.

He returned home in the late afternoon, the hottest part of the day. He found Malar and Naalem watching a film in the living room.

“Malar and Losha are in the study. She’s working on some business and he’s doing his exercises. Do you need to work in there?”

“No, I have no work to do at the moment. I’ll join you.”

He and Amanda didn’t always have the same tastes in films, but her choices usually gave him insight into humans or other species. 

“Oh, well, we’re nearly halfway through.”

“I don’t mind. You can fill me in.” The truth was, there was always work he could be doing, but he preferred to be in Amanda’s company at the moment. If the film was uninteresting, there was plenty to think about. 

“Naalem wanted to learn more about Vulcan, but I thought it would be better to watch an Earth movie so he doesn’t have to read subtitles.”

“We have an extensive collection of movies about Vulcan in Standard, Amanda.” Surely she knew this.

“Oh, I know, Sarek. It’s just that Vulcan documentaries aren’t the most exciting, especially for a young person.”  
Sarek pursed his lips.

“So what film did you decide on, then?”

Amanda turned her head from him back to the screen. She looked straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. “Jonathan Archer and the Lost Pyramid.” 

“It’s a really good movie.” Naalem spoke up. “I didn’t know all these things about Vulcan’s history.”

Sarek sighed. “It is very much exaggerated. If you are interested in Vulcan’s history, there are more accurate films.”

“Oh, I figured it was exaggerated.” Naalem smiled. “We have films just like this on Senes. I think ours are even more exaggerated than this. But no one wants to pay to see reality. Isn’t that the point of films?” 

“Yes, well, I suppose that is the point of most Earth films.” 

“Don’t mind him, Naalem. He likes an Earth movie every now and then too. This one just isn’t his favorite.” Amanda looked at him teasingly. “Do you still want to join us?”

He nodded his head and moved to sit next to Naalem, who instead moved over so he could sit next to Amanda.

He found the film just as ridiculous the second time as the first. Sarek had met Jonathan Archer when he had traveled to Earth with his father as a child. Though Archer was in his sixties at the time, Sarek was sure that he was never as well-toned and handsome as the actor who played him, who also appeared to be much younger than Archer was at the time he helped discover the Kir’Shara. Archer’s role in the discovery was also highly exaggerated in the film. Not surprising, since humans often imagined they were the preeminent species in the galaxy and, as such, had a hand in almost every major development both on and off of Earth.

In addition, the actress who played T’Pau also did not resemble the real T’Pau in the least - her beauty was also much embellished. As to T’Pol, Sarek had met her on numerous occasions when he was younger and while he couldn’t argue that she was especially beautiful, she would never have worn an outfit as ridiculous as her on-screen counterpart. A skin-tight jumpsuit was highly impractical as a starship uniform. The relationship between T’Pol and her human crewmate, Trip Tucker, also featured prominently in the film, despite the fact that Jonathan Archer, not T’Pol or Tucker, was the title character. Humans had to add romance, even when it was a distraction from the events, to everything. He sighed again. At the time the film was released, many on Vulcan, himself among them, had believed the romance between the Vulcan science officer and the human engineer was a creation of human imagination. A Vulcan and human in an intimate relationship? Highly illogical. He had since, however, revised his opinion of this particular aspect of the film.

When the film ended, Amanda prepared to head to the market to pick up some items for dinner. She was about to ask Losha and Malar if they wanted to join her and Naalem, when they heard laughter coming from the study. It was clearly coming from both persons inside. Amanda smiled and when the laughter died down several minutes later, she continued her approach to the study. Before she reached the door, it opened and Losha stepped out, wiping away what appeared to be tears streaming down his face. It was clear that he had been smiling, not laughing, however. For the first time since meeting him, Sarek sensed true happiness, something he hadn’t sensed even in the hospital after the surgery.

“I was just going to ask if you and Malar would like to join me at the market. I have to pick up a few things before dinner.”

“Sure. Let me just see if Malar is at a good stopping point.” He was about to turn back to the study when he noticed Sarek standing at the end of the hallway. “Oh, hello.”

“Good afternoon.” 

Losha nodded in Seenan fashion and then turned back into the room. 

Once Amanda, Losha, Malar, and Naalem had left for the market, Sarek attended to business. When they had returned home again, Sarek noticed that Losha seemed very fatigued. Amanda chatted in the kitchen with Malar and Naalem, while Losha listened in from a chair in the dining room. He seemed to be only half paying attention though. The discussion Sarek had planned to have with him would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some time off in February and March, which allowed me to write this chapter as well as several previous ones, but I'm not sure when I will have the opportunity to write more. Thank you to those who have stuck with the story. It won't be abandoned - it just may be some time before I have the opportunity to update.


End file.
